Harleen
by JasiaVu
Summary: Dr. Harleen Quinzel is an extraordinarily gifted, intelligent, and compassionate young psychiatrist with a dark and nightmarish past. In a desperate attempt to save her suffering patients, and herself, she is introduced to the man who would alter her future forever. After all, even a brilliant mind can only take so much…before it breaks.
1. Breaking Rules

**Check out my Deviant Art page for cover art done by me. (Link on profile)**

**Harleen Quinzel: Kristen Bell**

**The Joker: Heath Ledger (Miss you, Heath!)**

**Thanks for reading and I'd love to hear your thoughts!**

**-J**

* * *

**"Broken" by Lauren Hoffman - opening credits theme**

* * *

Harleen began to feel her thoughts resurface from her dreams. It must have been 3:00 A.M. She always woke up at 3:00 A.M. Normally she would simply check the clock, change position, and doze uncomfortably back to sleep. Occasionally, she might get up for a glass of water, or if she was really feeling restless, read through patient files in preparation for the next day. One in particular had been costing her precious resting hours over the last six months. He had been showing some improvements with therapy; less violent towards staff and other patients, more compliant with medications, he had even been given recreation room privileges in the last month. His hands and feet had to remain cuffed, but it was an improvement none the less. The problem was, other than the events that had occurred six months previously leading up to his capture by The Batman, absolutely nothing was known about this man. If she didn't start making more progress in that area soon, he may be removed from her case load. At first she would not have objected. Treating a psychotic, mass murdering, clown straight out of residency wasn't exactly what she thought she would be dealing with when she had decided upon psychiatry as a specialization. Still, Dr. Harleen Quinzel prided herself on her innate ability to connect with and influence the extreme personalities of the residents of Arkham Asylum, and that is precisely why Dr. Arkham himself had recommended her for the job as The Joker's doctor.

It had taken him a little over a month to finally begin really communicating in sessions, but Dr. Quinzel remained patient and vigilant. She knew she could connect with him, help him, _cure_ him. Clearly it would take some time, but she was willing to put in the effort even if he wasn't. For the first few weeks he returned all of her questions with questions of his own, bouncing from topic to topic and refusing to cooperate. She quickly learned that if he was going to play her game, she would have to play his; dangerous as it was.

_"Why do you think you do the things that you do, Mr. Joker?" she had asked in an early session._

_He sighed at her and rolled his dark eyes, "Does anyone really know why they do what they do, Doc? I certainly don't, I just do things. You're the one who wants to psychoanalyze everything. So, why do you do what you do?"_

_"Treat patients?"_

_"Sure, if that's where you want to go with it", he shrugged, "Why do you pretend to care?"_

_"But I do care, Mr. Joker. I care very much. I even care about you."_

_A facetious grin of awkward complacency grew across his scared complexion, and he entwined his fingers between his cuffed wrists, "Do you? Well, that's splendid! I think I must be cured now. All I needed for my repressed and tortured subconscious to recover was the genuine affection of a beautiful woman. Who knew?"_

_Dr. Quinzel raised her eyebrows, "Do you believe that your subconscious is repressed and tortured?"_

_"We're all mad here. I'm mad. You're mad….", he retorted, rolling his head._

_"Is that how you interpret the world? As either repressed and tortured or…in essence…'faking it'?_

_He smiled and sat forward in his seat on the leather therapy couch in front of her, "That's an interesting black and white question, Doc. Tell me, do you ever… 'fake it'… or is it just standard protocol to look bored out of your pretty little head?"_

She had heard about fifteen different stories regarding the origins of his scars by now. Each one more radical than the last and none of which she believed, but his demeanor had been dramatically altered since their initial sessions. Dedication to his full rehabilitative status was the constant forefront of her sleep deprived mind and it had become an increasingly taxing task that had unfortunately, and admittedly, clouded her better judgment.

As sleep left her, Harleen began to lift her head in her nightly routine, but paused in hazy confusion when she noticed the extra weight that lay across her rib cage. Her spine froze as she lay on her left side, knees bent slightly. It felt as if someone was lying behind her, but it wasn't possible. She tried to shake herself subconsciously, mentally rationalizing that she was still half sleeping, but the rush of blood draining from her face and pounding in her ears soon rendered her completely alert as she felt the warmth behind her move and tuck its legs in behind hers. Her eyes grew wide with fear while she examined the dark room; completely still except for the curtains that rustled slightly over her open window. She hadn't left that open. No one in their right mind slept with open windows in Gotham City. Terrified of discovering what she might find, she began to slowly turn her head and body around and felt her toes go numb with panic when his face rose up to meet hers, smiling.

"Did I wake you? I'm sorry, love", he whispered with a sarcastic pout. Harleen opened her mouth to scream, but was quickly muffled as he clasped a calloused hand over it, "Ah tatata shhh…let's not wake the neighbors, Babydoll."

He hovered over her, resting his elbow into the mattress and pinning her right arm under his weight. She tried to pull his left palm away from her mouth to release the loud shriek sequestered in her tight throat, but he snatched her wrist with his free hand and pushed it into the bed, "Stop squirming!"

He was growing impatient as her lower extremities began to thrash wildly and he threw his right leg tightly over them, locking them within his strong thighs. She was completely trapped and could feel hot tears forming in her eyes as she stared helplessly up into his dark ones. Why was he here? _How_ was he here? She passed by his heavily guarded and monitored cell with reinforced glass everyday on her way out of Arkham. In fact, she had seen him not twelve hours ago locked tightly in his cell, reading comics on his cot, and whistling the theme song to the Looney Tunes.

He was gripping her wrist with incredible strength for his lean build and she was sure it would bruise. Her heart was racing and pounded so furiously in her ears that she could barely hear what he was whispering to her.

"I'm not gonna hurt you. Look, look!", he released his vice-like hold on her wrist and spread his fingers in the air above her terrified expression, "No knives, no guns. No shoes either, the run here was a bitch."

He wriggled his toes underneath the sheets and Harleen glanced down at his orange collar, realizing that he was still wearing his standard issue Arkham coveralls. He must have broken out in the last few hours and she wondered if they had even noticed. His face was still sans makeup, which was the way she had grown to know him in the last six months. Except for the puckered scares that etched across his Glasgow smile, she had always secretly admitted him to be very attractive. His dark brown eyes were captivating yet menacing, and he could often draw her in without saying a word; he knew this about her. The green dye had washed completely out of his curly, brown, shoulder-length hair ages ago and he had it tied back away from his face so that the only thing she could visualize clearly in the dim light were his piercing eyes. But they looked less sadistic tonight and she felt herself relax slightly. Perhaps he truly intended her no harm, but then, why was he here?

"Now" he continued, "I'm gonna take my hand off your mouth, but if you scream" he pointed a finger close to her eye, "I'll be very upset. Understand?" He lowered his chin and raised an eyebrow to her.

She nodded shakily and let out a small sigh as his large hand slipped slowly from her lips and she felt the blood rush back into them. He had been pressing them hard against her teeth. Tears streamed down the sides of her face, tickling the insides of her ears as she mentally blamed herself for her precarious predicament, and reprimanded the naïve stupidity that had lead to this. She knew it had all started with the note left in her office, the issue she should have reported immediately but insisted to herself that she had the power to confront and resolve on her own.

_Dr. Quinzel had returned to work one morning a few months previously to find a single red rose laid across her desk and a card that read, _

_Come down and see me sometime, _

_ -J_

_She wasn't sure why she hadn't alerted anyone. It sent shivers down her spine to think that he could come and go as he pleased, and yet, he had never attempted to escape the Asylum; at least not then._

_"Care to tell me how this got in my office?" she had asked him that morning through his cell door._

_"I put it there" he replied casually._

_"I don't think the guards would like it if they knew you were out of your cell, Mr. Joker. How did you even manage-"_

_"-If you were going to tell them you already would have" he interrupted, "and besides, I get bored locked up all day with nothing to do."_

_"Well, if you continue to show progress, I may be able to get you rec room privileges."_

_"Don't patronize me, Doc", he growled._

_She sighed, "Well, what if I provide you with some sort of entertainment? What do you like?"_

_The Joker had been lying on his back with his arms folded behind his head. He picked his head up with a smirk and raised an eyebrow to her, "You really wanna know? I can tell you, but it won't be professional, Doc."_

_She snickered quietly, "Ok, maybe not. How about some comics? Do you like Superman?"_

_The Joker lowered his head back to his bed and crossed his arms over his chest, "And Lex Loser? Nah."_

_"Well, my uncle owns a comic book store and gets a lot of overstock he sells for a fair price. I'll bring you a stack a week if you promise me you won't break any more rules."_

_The Joker huffed, "Rules", he said under his breath, "Alright, alright. But only 'cause you laugh at my jokes."_

_His doctor giggled again, "Deal."_

Normally, it was unethical to provide gifts or incentives for patients, but she knew from the very beginning that treating The Joker would be far from conventional. She had honestly felt that they had been setting the foundations of a satisfactory professional relationship. His past remained an expertly shrouded mystery, but his charisma had not gone unnoticed by the other physicians or the other patients, his temper had diminished greatly, and he hadn't tried to bite an orderly in a long while. In fact, he had caused the least amount of trouble out of any of the other inmates with a violent history; at least in the last three months. There had been an incident which had occurred involving a nurse who tried to vaccinate him during a routine inoculation period. After that, it was mandated that The Joker be completely cuffed or tied to the hospital bed before any needles were brought into the room. Prior to that, there had been an episode when another doctor attempted to treat him while Dr. Quinzel was out on sick leave. Apparently, when he said he wanted '_his_ doctor', he meant it. Since then, he had been very compliant and even pleasant during their sessions. She was even surprised to discover his alluring charm and sense of humor, sick as it may sometimes be. So, Dr. Quinzel didn't see any harm in providing her patient with a few necessary means to keep him on the right track to good behavior. She was glad to see that he enjoyed his weekly delivery of books and usually stopped by his cell to say 'goodnight' on the way out. Just as she had that very evening:

_ She had approached the reinforced glass on the front of her patient's cell, and could hear him whistling and chuckling to himself between pages of his comic book._

_"Is it a good one?" she asked through the slants in the glass._

_He gazed up at her, resting on his elbows, stomach on his cot, "Quittin' time, Doc?" he replied and glanced at the clock in the hall across from his cell. "Here a little late aren't we?"_

_"I was working on a patient file."_

_The Joker looked back down at his book, "Say anything good about me?"_

_Dr. Quinzel smirked," And what makes you think it was yours? I have other patients you know?"_

_He rolled onto his back and hovered the comic above his face with arms extended, "Yeah but, I bet none of those keep you up at night."_

_"Well, neither will this one now that it's done."_

_He pressed his head  
into the cot and grinned slyly upside down at her, "Well then, sweet dreams, Cupcake." _

_He winked at her and went back to reading his comic, whistling. She shook her head as she turned on her heels and started for the security doors._

_"It's 'Doctor', Mr. Joker" she yelled back at him._

_"Sweet dreams, Dr. Cupcake", he retorted._

_She attempted to stifle the chuckle that echoed back into his cell. As the security doors closed quietly behind her, The Joker slowly lowered his book to his chest and stared up at the dark ceiling, the corners of his scars lifting into a keen sideways grin._


	2. Truth and Dare

**New Character:**

**Dr. Jeremiah Arkham: David Tennant**

* * *

Harleen's breath was slowing now. She was still terrified beyond imagining, but panicking would only aggravate and provoke him; she knew this about him.

"There, ya see?" he said in a comforting voice.

After several attempts through raspy breaths all she managed to stammer was, "H-How..?"

"You didn't keep up your end of the deal, Doc" he smirked down at her.

She stared at him in wide-eyed confusion and he pretended to shine his fingernails on his coveralls as he sighed, "I've been bored out of my mind with all the re-runs this week. You should really have a talk with that dirty uncle of yours; selling you the same books you bought last week, tsk tsk."

Harleen was suddenly furious. This lunatic broke out of Arkham to lecture her on keeping up with the latest issue of comic books? And in the process, nearly caused her a heart attack?

"Or I could talk to him for you" he continued.

_Gather your senses, Harls, this isn't about comic books and you know it._

She shook her head spastically, eyes locked with his. He suddenly let out a spine chilling laugh and slammed his fist onto the pillow next to her head, making her heart stop.

"Oh I tell a lie, but it's sweet that you would protect a two timing uncle like that. Just like my little Harlequin", he toyed, pinching her nose and moving her head side to side.

"How many people died when you escaped tonight?" she asked bravely. That 'Harlequin' comment had set her teeth on edge, he knew she hated it. His smile disappeared as he looked up and lifted one scared cheek, squinting an eye in feigned thought.

"Does it count if I left them bleeding, but didn't actually _see_ them die? I mean, they could have pulled through for all we know, right?" he replied sarcastically.

She closed her eyes with a regretful sigh, wondering if she would be joining her fallen co-workers tonight.

"Hey!" he smirked, "I'm just trying to remain optimistic here. _You_ taught me that, remember?", he asked darkly.

She did remember that session.

_"Why so serious?" The Joker had asked._

_Dr. Quinzel looked up from the notes she had been pretending to read, "Hm?"_

_He grinned at her from the therapy couch in front of her office chair, "You aren't arguing with me as much as usual today. Somethin' on your mind or are you finally beginning to see my side of things?" he quickly lifted his eyebrows twice._

_Her mind had been admittedly preoccupied with thoughts of a prior patient of hers, and of a bet she had lost concerning his recovery. She felt very ashamed of herself these last couple of weeks, and didn't sleep much anymore, but The Joker was her focus now; couldn't lose focus._

_She quickly straightened herself in her seat and cleared her throat, "I apologize, Mr. Joker."_

_"For not arguing or not listening?" he asked, appearing to be slightly annoyed. It was the first time she had seen him take an actual interest in their therapy sessions, and her spirits were suddenly lifted._

_Dr. Quinzel cleared her throat before reading from her notes, "'Upset the established order, and everything becomes chaos. And when that happens, the moral civilized people of this cesspool of a city will eat each other. The only real way to survive is to bite first.' Does that about sum it up?" she asked with a proud grin. _

_"Oh, someone learned how to mindlessly scribe notes in school. Good job, Doc. You know, you may have missed your calling, you'd make a killer secretary" he huffed sarcastically. _

_He was lying on his back, cuffed hands resting on his stomach as he stared angrily at the ceiling._

_His doctor chuckled quietly "But surely you don't believe that about everyone, Mr. Joker? There are plenty of people in this city, and this world for that matter, who would gladly band together with their fellow neighbors in a time of crisis."_

_"You watch too much Lifetime Television" he snorted._

_"I prefer Oprah", she said as she scribbled down his reaction to today's session._

_The Joker scoffed, "Oh jeezus, that's even worse. 'You get a car! You get a car!'", he quipped, throwing an index finger in different directions._

_Dr. Quinzel laughed loudly, "There's nothing wrong with charity."_

_"That isn't charity. That's buying your votes."_

_He was pretending to still be annoyed, but she could sense that he had enjoyed hearing her laugh at his Oprah joke. _

_"Aw man, you're one of those fucking optimists aren't you?" he turned to her with a quirky grin._

_"Eternally", she answered, leaning forward in her chair._

_His eyebrows raised and he stared at her slyly, "Is that a dare, or a double-dare?"_

Harleen couldn't believe what was happening. She shut her eyes tightly, and tried to turn it all into a bad dream.

"Hey", she heard him whisper. His breath was sweet like peppermint candy; it always smelled like that, "Look at me".

She opened her eyes and more tears streaked down the sides of her face. She could feel her hair becoming damp behind her ears.

"What's with the waterworks, huh?" he asked as he wiped moist trails from her face.

"Do you have any idea what you've done?" she asked, lip quivering.

"I've done a lot of things in my life, Pumpkin Pie. You're gonna have to be a little more specific than that."

"All our progress, all our hard work: gone. You've just erased everything. It all means nothing now!" she was getting louder with each statement.

"Lower your voice", he growled.

She would never admit it out loud, or even to herself, but it made her spine tingle when he dropped his voice into that sinister octave he reserved only for making strong points. Her eyes fluttered closed.

"Hey." His voice was more demanding now, impatient, and she could feel his sugary breath closer to her this time. He reached up and tangled his fingers in her hair and gripped tightly, "Look at me," he commanded deeply again, emphasizing each of the words.

She opened her eyes to meet directly with his, their lips only centimeters apart. His scent was intoxicating. Harleen had always been drawn to it, like his dark eyes. There was something about it she could never quite put her finger on. It wasn't a soap or cologne, not a shaving cream or deodorant. It was him, and it made her head spin.

He had not smelled that way on the first morning she had met him. He had been captured by The Batman the night before and put through the Asylum's rigorous medical examination process. Dr. Quinzel was given his file first thing that very morning and asked to begin a mental profile on him.

_"_The_ Joker?" she had asked, shocked and nervous "The maniac that has been terrorizing the city for the last week?"_

_"The Batman caught him again last night and a SWAT team brought him straight in. After his escape from the GCPD, they didn't want to take any chances."_

_Dr. Jeremiah Arkham was walking briskly alongside the young, blonde, blue eyed Dr. Quinzel who was now second guessing her career choice, "With all due respect, Sir, I don't-"_

_"-Dr. Quinzel, you have proven yourself to be a valuable asset to this rehabilitative team, and I am confident in your abilities", it sounded extremely insincere. More like a rushed cop-out for shoving a highly dangerous patient into her already brimming caseload. He stopped when they reached the door to his office and fished his pockets for his keys, "However, if you feel that this is a poor match, I will gladly reassign the patient to someone more experienced. Now, if you will please excuse me."_

_He quickly unlocked the door and disappeared behind its painted window: _

Dr. Jeremiah Arkham, Director of Rehabilitation.

_"Ass", Dr. Quinzel scoffed under her breath after he shut the door in her face. She opened her left hand which had been clinched into a tight fist. She could see flakes of skin where her fingernails had cut into her palm. _

_'Someone with more experience', that man infuriated her. _

_She stared down at the patient file labeled:_

_Patient Number: 666, Name: Unknown, Alias: The Joker_

_The doctor smirked, "Patient # 666. Good one guys." She glanced at her watch, "Shit, I better get down there."_

_She took the elevator down to the medical floor and swiped her I.D. badge at the double security doors which swung slowly open for her. _

_"I'll show him experienced", she muttered to herself as she approached the interview room where she would sit with the most dangerous man ever known to Gotham City. _

_She could feel the butterflies in her stomach suddenly take flight as she addressed the guard outside the room, "Hello. Dr. Quinzel to interview Patient #666."_

_The guard looked her petite frame up and down, clearly unconvinced. Dr. Quinzel straightened her back and pushed the brim of her black rimmed glasses, "Now, please."_

_The guard reluctantly moved aside, "Good luck, lady"._

_She turned the large metallic knob slowly and took a deep breath. Inside, she was relieved to find two more guards standing on each side of her new patient. His hands had been cuffed behind him to the chair which was bolted to the floor, and his ankles were cuffed to a metal loop in the cement. The young doctor cleared her throat and approached the table. The Joker had already been examined and placed into his new orange Arkham uniform, but his face and hair had not been washed. _

_He smelled like gun powder, Halloween, and something else; was it blood?_

_His eyes were closed and he had not yet looked up to see who had entered the room. She doubted he had slept in the last 24 hours at least, if not more, and she knew instantly that this first interview was probably not going to go well. She cleared her throat again and took the seat opposite her new patient, a wide table separating them._

_"Mr. Joker?" she tried not to sound as nervous as she felt, "My name is Dr. Harleen Quinzel, and I will be your psychiatrist here at Arkham."_

_The Joker chuckled, but did not open his eyes, "Mr. Joker. Now that's a new one."_

_"Oh?" his new doctor enquired, "What do people usually call you? Or perhaps you'd like me to call you by your real name?"_

_He opened his eyes and her heart might have stopped. She had to remind herself to breathe. His eyes were so…_

_"I usually get just 'Joker'. Or Freak or Clown…or God", he leaned in to her as close as his cuffs would allow, and the two guards shuffled nervously behind him, "but I only get that one on very special occasions." _

_He lifted an eyebrow, winked at her, and she instantly felt her face fill with blood. She averted her eyes and quickly placed his file on the table, opening it as he sat back in his chair and chuckled in his throat._

_"What did you say your name was, Sweets?" he asked._

_She cleared her throat, and replied without looking at him, "Dr. Quinzel."_

_"Quinzel, yeah, but your first name..."_

_She knew she was still blushing._

_'He's trying to get a rise out of you, Harleen', the voice in her head coached her, 'Look at him. Show him you aren't afraid.'_

_She looked into his dark eyes confidently, "Harleen. Harleen Quinzel."_

_"Harleen Quinzel", he mimicked slowly, the words sounded dirty in his mouth, "A bit backwoods trailer park, but I like it. Rework it a bit and you get-"_

_"-Harley Quinn or Harlequin, like the clown. I know, I've heard it before."_

_The Joker smirked, "Puts a smile on my face. It suits you, Doc."_


	3. Gambling Problem

Harleen could feel her pulse quicken again as she stared into his focused gaze. She tried to keep her breathing under control, but it soon followed suit as she struggled to remain calm. His grip loosened in her hair and she felt his hand wrap around the side of her face.

"Don't you mean _your_ progress, Doctor?" he asked in that low growl that made her back arch slightly and she hoped he hadn't felt it.

Doctor; he never called her that, not unless he followed it up with some ridiculously demeaning pet name. She was suddenly concerned again for her safety.

"So what, you cure the infamous Joker and write your ticket for life, huh? I escape, your credibility returns to shit, and suddenly I'm the enemy, eh Sweetheart?"

He pressed his fingers into her face and she could see his pupils begin to dilate as he clenched his teeth, muscles in his jaw protruding. She was about to die. He would snap soon and kill her. Probably strangle her to death since he had no weapons to do the job; she knew that about him. Murdered by the patient she had cared most for, what a cliché. Her whole life had been a sorry, rotten cliché. Her surviving co-workers would attend her funeral and say things like, "What a shame", before returning to their busy lives. Her office would be cleaned out and prepared for the next new hot-shot intern or fresh-from-the-market resident, and she would be forgotten within a month. No family to speak of, all dead. No interest in maintaining a healthy relationship of any kind with another human being that was not attached to her heavy case load. Completely consumed in her work, and for what? For it to kill her, literally kill her. At least she got to die in her own bed.

Without thinking, Harleen raised a calm hand to The Joker's scared cheek and closed her eyes, "I tried, Mr. J. I really did, but I failed you, too. I'm so sorry."

She stroked the jagged path of his scar with her thumb and allowed her senses to relax into the scent of him, the feel of his weight on her. She decided that she wouldn't struggle, she would let it happen. She wouldn't go out a coward, that part she could control.

_"Dr. Quinzel, I can't tell you how much I appreciate everything you've done for me", a short, thin, balding man was shaking her hand vigorously between both of his._

_She chuckled, "That's quite alright, Mr. Steerman, just doing my job. Now please, continue with your medications as instructed on the bottle and if you have any questions, or if any concerns arise in the future, don't hesitate to call me. You know how to reach me."_

_"Yes, yes. I'm certain I'll be just fine."_

_"I know you will. I think that must be your taxi, then", she gestured to the yellow cab pulling up on the other side of the security doors._

_"Oh, yes ok. Thank you again, Dr. Quinzel, again and again." _

_The man tipped his fedora and grabbed his belongings, all of which fit into a small paper grocery bag._

_"Let us know once you arrive at the half-way home, and again once you obtain employment. They will have all the resources available for you to begin your new life", his doctor added as he walked quickly to the exit. _

_"I will, not to worry.  
Goodbye now, goodbye" he shook the hand of every guard, orderly, and nurse along the way and Dr. Quinzel folded her arms, watching proudly as he climbed into the cab and rode away. _

_"He'll be back", a cold voice muttered lowly from the darkened cell next to her._

_She turned to peer inside, unsure who had spoken._

_"Excuse me?" she asked, slightly annoyed._

_"He'll-be-back," the voice repeated, emphasizing each word._

_She could only make out the outlined shadow of its owner lying on the cot, but the second time he spoke, his identity was unmistakabley revealed to her, at least the little they knew about it, anyway._

_"And what makes you say that, Mr. Joker?" she retorted, folding her arms once again._

_The figure rose slowly from its bed and sauntered over to the lightened glass. His makeup was washed away now, and the green was slowly leaving his curly shoulder length hair. She couldn't help but notice his strong jaw line and the lean musculature of his forearms as he pressed his hands upon the glass, towering above her._

_"What makes you think he won't be?" he asked slyly "Is he 'cured'?" He mimed quotation signs in the air with his fingers before replacing them on the glass._

_"By this hospital's standards, yes", she replied confidently._

_He feigned surprise, "Oh, it's a hospital now is it? See, that's funny 'cause when I was brought here, they told me it was a prison."_

_"It's both."_

_"Both."_

_"Yes, it's a place for people to come to rehabilitate who, because of their mental state, have committed an act that is deemed unacceptable by law."_

_The Joker blew air through his lips and rolled his eyes backwards before turning and leaning his back against the glass, laughing hysterically as he slid down to the floor._

_"You'll see soon enough, Mr. Joker, our sessions begin tomorrow morning. Now, if you'll excuse me," she began to walk away, fuming._

_"You a bettin' woman, Harleen?" he asked, back still to the glass._

_"I'd prefer it if you would address me as Dr. Quinzel, please."_

_"Why? Harleen is your name, too, is it not?"_

_She was growing impatient, "It's too informal for our patient-doctor relationship, I'm afraid. It would be inappropriate."_

_The Joker rolled his head and shot up to standing, glaring over her, "Rules, rules, rules. What are you hiding from, Harleen?"_

_The doctor shut her eyes and took a deep breath, "We can finish this discussion tomorrow, Mr. Joker. Have a good day."_

_She turned again to leave._

_"I'll make you a bet, Doc", he shouted after her, but she continued to walk away, rolling her eyes._

_"If he isn't back within the next six months…I'll tell you my name."_

_She stopped dead and turned to face him, stunned. The Joker placed his large hands back upon the glass as she slowly approached him, arms folded in her chest. This was completely unorthodox, but she was willing to try anything at this point._

_"And if he _does _return?"_

_He crouched down to her level and she felt herself shudder as he peered into her blue eyes with his dark orbs, "You have to tell me what you're hiding from behind that diploma, Harleen", his eyes appeared to grow even darker as a sinister smile spread across his scared complexion, "And I get a kiss" he added quickly, shooting her a spoochy face and laughing._

_His doctor rolled her eyes again before stepping closer to the glass. Their noses were almost touching on either side._

_ "Deal", she sneered through her teeth._

_The Joker gave a brief but genuine look of surprise before standing back up to his normal height and resting a forearm above his head on the glass, "Ya know something? I like you, Doc. I really do. I think we're gonna be good friends."_

_The young doctor turned in place with a smug grin and started down the hall, "I hope so, Mr. Joker", she called back and he continued watching her until she vanished from his view._


	4. Immunizations

Harleen felt her muscles relax underneath her. She couldn't fight anymore. She was exhausted and he had won. She lay in silence with her eyes closed, swooning at his harsh touch, welcoming the end. His weight shifted on her, and she imagined he was gaining the correct leverage with which to strangle her. She felt his fingers soften on her face and the brush of his breathing on her again as she inhaled him and relaxed the hand that held his face onto his shoulder. She could feel the taunt muscle beneath his coveralls and recalled the sexual tension that had been mounting between them during their more recent encounters. It was an extremely unprofessional aspect of their unconventional professional relationship which she refused to address, either to him or to herself. Humans were animals, and as such, were prone to biochemical responses to other members of their species which were, for the most part, out of their control. Therefore, her physical attraction to him was due to the instinctive biological code written for continuing the species in the most primitive position of her well-developed brain, survival of the fittest, and nothing more.

_The Joker noticed her staring and jokingly pulled the bed sheets over, covering his muscular chest "What a pig!" he quipped with a grin._

_Embarrassed, his doctor quickly averted her eyes to the chart she had been holding while they waited for the nurse in the medical wing._

_"Er, are you, I mean, do you want to go to the rec room today, Mr. Joker?"_

_He smirked, placing the sheet back down beside him, and let out an exaggerated sigh, "Yeah, I guess I could grace the rest of Arkham with my presence for a couple of hours. Why not? They have cartoons, I like that- JEEZUS!"_

_The nurse had returned with her stethoscope and placed its cold metal against his bare skin without warning. He arched his spine and threw his arms in front of him, narrowly missing his doctor. She attempted to hide a laugh under her cupped hand while he stuck his tongue out at her childishly._

_She cleared her voice and attempted to regain her composure, "Well, you know that before you can go, you will need to have your flu shot."_

_He kicked his legs back and forth under the examination table and tilted his head backward, moaning in his tantrum._

_"I know, I know, but it's the last one for a whole year. One and done! I'll hold your hand."_

_"I hate fucking shots", he grumbled as the orderlies tied his hands to the railings of the exam table._

_The nurse looked extremely hesitant carrying the needle ever closer to the psychopath who had stuck the last one in her friend's eye. The Joker released one last moan before squeezing his eyes shut and turning his head in the other direction. They opened in surprise when he realized his hand had been encased in two tiny soft ones. His doctor was smiling amusingly at him and he stared back at her with a smirk._

_"FUH -CKING! What'd you do, stick it in the bone?!" he yelled after the frightened nurse who hurried away._

_"Oh, stop it you big baby", Dr. Quinzel scolded as she began bravely untying his restraints._

_"Baby?" he pouted at her, "It was in the bone."_

_He rubbed his deltoid with his other hand and she briefly caught sight of its contraction under his smooth skin. She attempted to return his shirt to him with her eyes glued to her charts and he reached for it with a sideways grin. Pulling it over his head, he zipped up his orange coveralls and sprang from the exam table, "Ready for my entourage!" he exclaimed brightly, making his doctor laugh._

_"Oh, indeed, King Joker!" she said sarcastically._

_"It's Emperor Joker, actually", he returned as his arms and ankles were cuffed by two burly orderlies._

_"Forgive me", Dr. Quinzel responded, smiling as she wrote in her chart "Well, be a good boy in the rec room, enjoy your cartoons, and I'll see you at 4:00."_

_She turned to leave and giggled to herself when she heard him ask the nurse, "What? No lolli?"_

Harleen's eyes shot open suddenly. His were closed and his lips pressed against hers.

'What is he doing? Push him away!', her internal dialogue commanded.

His lips were full and soft, and his scars tickled the front of her cheeks as he parted his mouth on hers. Her breath quickened again, she wasn't prepared for this or for the uncontrollable reaction that her body had to it. This was completely unprofessional and she could feel the nervous guilt rise from her gut. She felt his breathing increase pace also as he dove in again for another kiss, this time letting his tongue gently caress her bottom lip.

"No!" she pushed against his chest and her hand found something moist on his coveralls.

'Oh god, is that…_blood?'_

"I can't do this!" she exclaimed.

He quickly grabbed her head in both hands, "Oh yes you can, Harley. You wanna know why?"

She stared up at him, gasping to the point of hyperventilation.

"Well," he continued, "first of all, you lost the bet."

She rolled her eyes with a resentful scoff and attempted to look away from him, but he squeezed her tighter and forced her to stay focused on him.

"Secondly, because you want to and you know it. Quit holding back. Quit trying to be whatever it is they want you to be and accept it. Accept the fact, that whether or not you believe it in here yet," he said pointing to her head, "in here", now pointed at her heart, "you are already my Chaotic Clown Princess of Anarchy."

She struggled under him again, but his strong grip felt as though it was compressing the sides of her skull, holding her firmly in place. His smiling face was mocking her efforts and she grew increasingly agitated by his accusations; she would never be his, never.

"And you wanna know what the funny part is? You want it, and yet, you fight it with every breath in you. You're more a Two-Face than Two-Face, Baby, and it doesn't have much at all to do with me. Ya see, you were already more than halfway there when I found you, attempting to hide behind what was left of your self-righteous morality and that fucking piece of paper, but I saw you. I saw right through that ridiculously transparent professional shield you carry, but in a place like Arkham, you can only have as much freedom and power as they allow you to have, keeping your brilliant mind pinned in its cage until they need you for the next undesirable task. Isn't that how you got stuck with me, hm? I'm trying to free you, Precious, don'cha see?"

Harleen's vision was blurred with tears. Her head was throbbing loudly and she felt nauseous as she attempted to shake her head back and forth, "No, no, no."

"Oh yes, yes, yes", he argued confidently, "Remember what I told you, Angel, huh? There are no good people in this world, only good actors. The world is brimming fucking full with filth, and scum, and trash who put on their happy little masks and go out everyday acting their asses off and fooling every other piece of shit asshole in sight. The only way to protect yourself from those monsters is to be a bigger one. Bite _first-ah_."

The disorienting fog was thick and heavy around her exhausted brain. Her head was spinning as her thoughts flew in a million different directions. This had to be a nightmare. He was wrong; human kind was innately benevolent and worth the struggle to be rescued. It had to be worth saving, if it wasn't, than neither was she and all hope was lost. As her mind crashed through the darkened warped tunnels of her desperate thoughts, his lips suddenly closed around hers again and his enticing scent filled her primitive senses, preventing her from refusing him again in her faithless haze of self-proclaimed temporary insanity. She mindlessly closed her eyes and brought her free arm around his back, gripping onto the coveralls as if for dear life.

**['Soul to Squeeze' by Red Hot Chili Peppers]**

He moaned and shifted his weight on top of her, finally freeing the arm that was trapped beneath him all this time. Tingling as the blood returned, she brought it up and enclosed his scarred face while he sighed deeply through his nose and his tongue pushed its way into her mouth, kissing her deeply. Her world continued to twirl and she felt his lips leave hers to begin placing small kisses down her neck and collarbone. His rough hands were caressing the skin under her tank top and she could feel him inching it up as she arched her back against him. She pulled the zipper of his bloody coveralls down his torso, then reached inside and pushed the fabric apart and down his arms. Pushing away from her, he sat up on his knees and finished pulling the orange material off his forearms as his lustful gaze remained locked onto her.

Gripping the bottom of his white undershirt, she tugged it upward and he leaned back down and allowed her to pull it over his head. His lips crashed back into hers and she used her hands to finally roam every inch of rippling sinew on this back and chest as their kissing grew even more passionate. By this point he had managed to pull her tank top up to her chest and she crunched her body forward, lifting her arms as he tugged it over her head. She reached to the back of his head and freed his hair tie allowing his brown curls to fall and tickle her face while she tangled her fingers in their softness, kissing him furiously.

There was no objective rationale available for what was happening, and clearly about to happen, but Harleen was surprisingly devoid of guilt or any means of comprehensive thought. Her primitive brain had taken over and her chemical processes forced her body into a state of contented rapture to which there was no intervening. She brought her legs up and placed the insides of her feet on the coveralls that now draped loosely from The Joker's waist. She began pushing them down but he broke from their kiss and winced in pain, sucking air in through his teeth and arching his spine as he turned to look down at his left side where she could dimly make out what looked like a large gash along his hip.

"What happened?" she exclaimed in concern, attempting to sit up.

He roughly pushed her back down, "It's fine. Flesh wound", he assured quickly as he tried to return to her lips.

"It doesn't look like it! Let me see."

"It's fine, I said", he growled, "just don't stick your foot in it."

He returned to kissing her as he kicked the remaining coveralls off onto the floor along with his boxers. Breathing hard into her neck, he planted teethy nips and kisses as a hand began sliding one side of her panties down her hips. She helped with the other side and he quickly removed them and threw them across the room before settling himself between her thighs with a keen grin. They shared a quick smirk and leaned forward to nibble at her neck playfully as he entwined his fingers between hers and pressed her arms into the bed above her head. Resting on his elbows, he pushed his hips slowly forward and finally entered her.

Harleen saw spots in her vision and took a deep gasp of raspy air. She heard him grunt softly into her neck and a tingle shot down her spine from her temples to her pelvis. He pulled slowly away from her and thrust his hips forward again, slightly harder and faster. She gripped his fingers tightly in hers and pushed her head back into the mattress, moaning through staggered breaths. The Joker began to pick up pace and settled on a rhythmic pistoning motion that made her back arch involuntarily with intense pleasure. Releasing her hands, he placed one arm in the bed for leverage, the other under the small of her back, pulling her up into his muscular abdomen as their bodies rocked together and they moaned through heavy kisses. The room was a kaleidoscopic blur and the increasing pleasure was absolutely unbelievable. The throbbing in her head had been replaced with the sounds of his breathing and low growling as he pushed even deeper into her, causing her every fiber to burn and spark. He increased his speed slightly more and she could feel the kisses on her neck turn into harder bites as an incredible electric surge coursed through her entire body and the tension began building within her pelvis.

He shifted his weight to reach down, and brought one of her knees to her chest, hooking an arm securely under it. It shocked her at first; he was too much for her to take and she hesitated in pain. As he moved, however, she felt the pressure build again and her immediate and involuntary reaction was to slap her hands onto his back and imbed her nails into his flesh while her climax immediately released to the surface before she had time to realize what had happened. Moaning loudly, felt her muscles tighten around him and he changed pace once again. Releasing her leg, he reached into her hair and grabbed a handful, yanking her head back as he began to shudder. He bit down hard onto her shoulder and released a long low moan. She could feel her neck pop in three places, and was sure he was drawing blood from her shoulder, but she scarcely cared as she rode out her pleasure and felt the euphoria slowly slip away.

His intense thrusting eventually slowed to a relaxed pace before stopping completely, and he gradually released the grip on her hair, easing his body weight down on top of her, breathing heavily into her neck. She suddenly realized that her nails were still firmly planted into his back, and she removed them slowly.

"Gah!" he jumped.

Harleen giggled quietly, "Sorry."

They lay there for a long while, eyes closed, breaths slowing, and she could feel sleep begin to take over as she lay comfortably under him, he still inside of her.


	5. Corporal Punishment

**New Character:**

**Aaron Cash: Forest Whitaker**

* * *

Harleen swung her arm out violently toward the obnoxious shrieking that had just penetrated her deep sleep. Her lamp tumbled to the floor with a crash, but the noise was relentless. She had been lying on her stomach, head under her pillow, tangled in the sheets, and swung out once again to finally make contact with her target. The alarm clocked ceased its buzzing and read; 5:00 lids were crusted with sleep. She hadn't slept that well in…well she couldn't remember how long. As she rubbed her eyes, flashes of misplaced and disjointed memory attacked her groggy brain, but she rolled over to find an empty up, she glanced at the window; blinked hard and attempted to compose herself. The memories of the previous night; they didn't feel real. Perhaps she had dreamt the entire thing. She shook her head and looked around the bed spotting her tank top lay on the floor. Scooping it up, she pulled it over her head before walking to the window and scanning the alleyway street below. It would be impossible for someone to enter this second floor window, open or not.

True, she had awoken completely undressed, but Harleen had been known to arise soaked in a chilly sweat at her usual biological 3:00 am wakeup call and strip her clothes off before returning to sleep, but she couldn't think clearly enough at the moment to recall whether it had happened last night. She needed coffee. As she stumbled to the bathroom and turned on the light, her fuzzy mind fought to determine what day it was. Everything seemed frustratingly out of place. She hovered over the sink, leaning on her arms, eyes closed, and reached out to turn on the facet before splashing cold water on her face while her stomach grumbled loudly. She was starving, but knew that her refrigerator wouldn't have much to offer since she had neglected to go grocery shopping for about two weeks now. All of her spare time recently was spent either at the Asylum or her kitchen table consuming patient cases rather than meals. In the small kitchen, she scanned the contents of the desolate icebox with a grimace and finally decided on a frozen waffle and some yogurt. While it cooked, she leaned lazily onto her palms with her elbows planted in her kitchen counter, watching the coils in the toaster turn red hot as the smell of her highly processed frozen breakfast rose into her nostrils, making her stomach protest loudly.

"Ugh", she moaned as she laid her head on the cool surface of the counter, becoming suddenly aware that her lower half was still entirely naked. She shrugged sleepily; no roommates, no pants.

The sound of the toaster popped loudly in her ears and she slowly lifted herself to remove her meal and toss it onto a plate. A small grin trickled across her face as she dumped the strawberry yogurt on top, scraping the carton with a spoon. That had been a _very_ nice dream, but her smile vanished when she remembered who it had involved.

'Sex dreams about your patients. Nice, Harleen', the internal voice scolded her.

She wondered if her session with The Joker would be awkward today, but found comfort in knowing that sociopath he might be, mind reader he was not, thank god. She would die of embarrassment if he ever knew. After breakfast, some coffee, and a hot shower, Harleen began to feel more like her old self again. She had definitely received a sufficient amount of necessary rest, and it gave her a little pep in her step as she skipped down the metal staircase from her small one bedroom apartment and onto the parking lot below.

The drive was pleasant. She rolled down the window and enjoyed the new fall air, wriggling her fingertips in the wind as she drove. Today was going to be a good day, she told herself. Nothing was going to dampen her spirits, least of all Jerry the Almighty. Dr. Jeremiah Arkham: what an intolerable, egotistical waste of perfectly good oxygen. If it hadn't been for him, her job might be perfect. He made her hate it sometimes, but nope, not today! She made up words to the songs on the radio as she turned onto the long wooded road leading onto Arkham Island. She loved driving this path in the fall, the leaves were just lovely.

"Good mornin', Dr. Quinzel" chirped the security guard as she pulled up and flashed her I.D. badge.

"Yes it is, Mr. Cash. How are you feeling? "

"Oh, much better, Ma'am, thanks for askin'. You have a good day, huh?"

"And you the same", she responded, and he saluted her with a prosthetic hook.

She took her usual parking spot toward the back of the employee parking lot. Dr. Arkham had promised to assign her a spot in the physician's lot for over a year, but was always conveniently too busy to remember. She didn't mind. Dr. Quinzel enjoyed mingling with what she considered to be the real heart and soul of the hospital; nurses, guards, and orderlies who risked their safety every day for the good of the patients. They were heroes, all of them. She flashed her badge again at the security doors entering the Asylum and greeted the guards there with a smile. As she walked away, they commented on her unusually high energy,

"Poor girl must 'a finally gotten some rest."

"I wouldn't be able to sleep either if I had to deal with a mind fuck like that Clown day in and day out."

The doctor entered the high, dark brick wall of the main hall where the high profile cells were located. The ceiling was raised to another floor above them and windows lined the walls, peering into the offices of other physicians. Dr. Quinzel's office was located on the fourth and very top floor of the building, cattycorner to The Director of Rehabilitation. She had been moved there following the termination of Dr. Crane, just before his incarceration at the Asylum, and she wondered if the purpose was to keep her at arm's length of Dr. Arkham as a means for him to 'keep an eye' on her. The thought may not have irritated her so much if she were still an intern, but she was an autonomous practitioner now and did not require an anxious on-looker. As she passed by The Joker's cell she glanced inside; he was still asleep. She could see his body curled up within the thin blankets, head beneath the pillow. It was 7:00 am. The residents wouldn't have wakeup calls for another hour, and her appointment with The Joker wasn't until 1:00 pm. She took a deep breath and sighed before starting for the elevators. As much as she hated to admit it, that was still _some_ dream and the thought made her smirk awkwardly to herself. At the top floor, the elevator doors opened to a sour looking Dr. Arkham.

"Dr. Quinzel, just the person I wanted to see. Will you come with me, please?"He turned to walk to his office.

'What now?', she thought silently, rolling her eyes behind him.

Once inside the Director of Rehabilitation's pristine office, he gestured for the young doctor to take a seat in front of his desk. She complied, adjusting her white coat as he pushed the brim of his wire-rimmed glasses and cleared his throat in his typically agitated tone.

"Dr. Quinzel, I would like to speak with you about the progress of your patient, #666."

"Mr. Joker", she corrected him. She never called patients by their number.

He hesitated, "Yes, I've been examining his files and it appears that there remain a large number of gaps in his progress notes."

A slew of profanities immediately rattled through her head. She knew this would happen, she just _knew_ it!

Maintaining her pleasant composure outwardly, she answered, "I understand your concern, Sir. The personal history of my patient has been an area of particular difficulty to obtain, however, his behavioral improvements have-"

"-Dr. Quinzel you have neglected to obtain a single piece of useable evidence in the last six months" ,he picked up the file and flipped through the pages hastily, "Not a single memory of his childhood, no family members to speak of, not even an obscure relationship with an ex co-worker or…nothing!" He slammed the file shut and pushed it aside before removing his glasses.

She tightened her fists in her lap, "Mr. Joker's case is not what we thought it would be going in, Dr. Arkham."

"Clearly, you've failed to even diagnose him."

"He's deeper than that, Sir, not simply a psychotic criminal mind. He won't respond to typical protocols of treatment and this entire process has taken me hours of-"

"-I am completely aware of your unconventional standards for treating this patient, Harleen, and I am not at all pleased with your methods or his progress", he glared at her and she felt her heart sink in her chest. She had felt terrible enough about placing that regretful bet with her patient without him rubbing salt on it.

He pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger before replacing his glasses and letting out a frustrated sigh, "Look, Dr. Quinzel, the fact of the matter is, the only reason you are still treating patient #666-"

"Mr. Joker."

"-is because, quite frankly, you are the only one who can. No other physician on our staff will agree to take him, and after the incident with Dr. Murdock I am resigned to believe he will work with no one else but you."

She worked hard to suppress the august grin that threatened to spread across her face.

When she didn't appear to respond, he checked his watch, "I'm late for a meeting. Continue treating your patient for now, Doctor. We will discuss this again at a later date."

He rose from his desk and opened the door for her.

As she exited into the hall a realization suddenly hit her, "Evidence", she whispered under her breath and spun around, "Evidence?" she enquired to Dr. Arkham while he locked his office.

"Yes, evidence, Doctor. Six months of therapy and we still have not a single insight into who this maniac is or where he came from."

He began walking with long strides toward the elevators and she had to bring her pace up to a trot in order to keep up with him, "Are we treating him or interrogating him?" she asked angrily.

"We are doing our civic duty to this city in aiding the GCPD with their ongoing investigation."

The petite doctor paused her gait in shock, then hurriedly caught back up to his side, "So- so what we treat him, get him to open up to another human being for once in his entire life and then use his own testimonies of recovery to further incarcerate him?" Her voice was bordering on shrill.

"Dr. Quinzel-"

"-Have you even looked at his behavioral charts? Ask the employees, ask the patients, ask anybody who's been around him more than three months! His progress is even objectively measurable. For Christ's sake, Jerry, you can't just-"

"-That's enough, Doctor" he was losing his temper.

"This is not why they come here!"

He stopped abruptly and turned to face her, "And given your professional history of patient discharges, you would be the expert, right?"

Her blood boiled with indignant fury and she desire to strike him with all the might she possessed in her tiny frame, but before she could retort, the 'patient escape' lights began flashing in the hall. The siren outside cranked its wailing up to a deafening octave and a panicked voice spoke through the intercom in the ceiling,

"Red alert emergency, cell number 666! Red alert emergency, cell number 666!"

The doctors exchanged wide-eyed glances before speeding toward the stairwell. Dr. Quinzel's heart pounded in her ears as she descended the stairs two at a time. When she and Dr. Arkham burst through the stairwell door on the bottom floor, she could see a small crowd had gathered in front of The Joker's cell and an ambulance was already pulling up outside the security doors. She sprinted to the edge of the crowd where Mr. Cash held out his hooked arm to stop her,

"Can't go in there, Doctor, we're under strict orders not to contaminate the scene."

She attempted to swallow the massive lump in her throat so she could speak, but when it would budge, she tried frantically to push past him into the cell. He grabbed her arm to pull her away, "No, Dr. Quinzel!"

Through the crowd of guards, she caught sight of a grey body lying rigid and motionless on The Joker's cot. The lump sunk into her stomach.

"What's happened?" she shrieked, jerking her arm violently to free it.

"It's Terry, Ma'am", Cash yelled over her desperate attempts to fend him off, "They found him about ten minutes ago."

She ceased her thrashing and stared up at him, his fingers till firmly gripping her arm, "No one knows how long he's been there or how long the bastard's been missin', that's why we can't go in there."

She was finally able to swallow, but remained too shocked to respond verbally.

Dr. Arkham approached her from the other side of the cell, clearly furious "Is this what you call progress?!" he screamed at her, pointing to the lifeless body.

His face glowed red and he sneered at her before storming off toward the security doors to meet the police who were arriving. The doctor's arm had been released, but she felt numb all over, and cold chill rushed through her as she replayed the events of the previous night in her mind.

"Not a dream", she whispered softly.

Things around her began to move in slow motion, all sounds became muffled and she suddenly felt sick. She tried to breathe deep, but the air around her was thick and stagnant. The muscles in her legs felt like jelly and her joints collapsed underneath her. The last thing she saw was Cash's face hovering over her. He was speaking to her, but she couldn't hear him.

Then everything went dark.


	6. Hide and Seek

**New (Original) Characters:**

**Simon Knox: Jason Lewis**

**Terry Moore: Jack Black **

* * *

_ "Harleen!"_

_The gruff masculine voice echoed through the room as the door flew open and crashed into the wall, causing it to vibrate violently on its hinges._

_"Harleen, where the fuck are you?"_

_She watched his steel toed boots stagger drunkenly around her bed, and she prayed he didn't look underneath it._

_"You better answer me goddamnit!"_

_His thick redneck accent slurred and sputtered the words as the smell of old liquor secreted from his pores. Even in her hiding spot she could smell him._

_"HARLEEN!"_

"Harleen?" the voice was much softer now, still deep and masculine, but gentle.

"Harleen?"

Her eyelids fluttered slightly. She moaned and tried to open them, but the light was blinding. After a moment she could see it grow dim with a click from beneath her eyelids, and she tried once again to lift them. A blurry figure hovered over her while she blinked hard and tried to sit up, but it sent her head spinning and she lay back down as the nausea hit her.

"What?" she tried to ask where she was, what had happened.

"You fainted", the tender voice replied, "Don't think you hit your head, though. How do you feel?"

She blinked a few more times and looked up, the hazy figure slowing focusing into view.

"Simon", she muttered.

The guard was seated next to her hospital bed in the medical wing.

"Like shit", she slurred.

"What?"

"I feel like shit."

"Oh", he chuckled, "Well, I guess that's to be expected."

"How long?" she asked in a hoarse voice.

"'Bout an hour. They asked me to wake you up. I thought you outta sleep, but…"

"No, it's okay. Terry?"

"They took him out on a stretcher and have the cell on lock down for investigation, now. I was there when they called his wife. You could hear her screaming through the phone from across the room. It was awful."

"Fuck." Harleen covered her eyes with a hand. She felt torn.

Terry was a sleazy creep who cheated on his wife and sexually harassed the women at work, but he didn't deserve to die…_did _he?

"They asked me to drive you home", Simon explained.

"I'm fine."

"I don't know, Harleen. You were pretty out of it. I don't think you should drive. Besides, you don't need to be out on your own with that Freak on the loose."

She felt her jaw clench. He was a sweet guy, but she hated that word.

_"Yo, Dr. Quin", Dr. Quinzel looked up from her notes to find a portly orderly standing in the door frame of her office, "That Crane guy with the potato sack ain't gonna make it to session today. He ain't feelin' so hot."_

_"Oh", she checked her watch, "that's a shame."_

_He snickered, "I guess."_

_"Ok, thank you Mr. Moore", she smiled politely and returned to her notes._

_"I keep tellin' ya, call me Terry, Doc."_

_"And my name is Quin-_zel_, Mr. Moore", she responded without looking at him; he made her skin crawl._

_"Whatever", he retorted, " I'll see ya."_

_He turned and started down the hall. Dr. Quinzel looked at her watch again and grabbed her scheduling book form the corner of her desk, flipping it open to scan her sessions for the day:_

Jonathan Crane, 9:00am

Edward Nigma, 10:30 am

Jerry the Almighty, 12:00 pm

_She chuckled to herself. She had forgotten that she penciled in her meeting with Dr. Arkham as though he were one of her patients. That head-case could use a therapy session or two…_

Victor Zsaaz, 2:00 pm

The Joker, 3:30 pm

_If she went down and got him now they could squeeze in two sessions in one day. She shut the file she had been working on, _New Patient Eval: Waylan Jones_, and searched her stack for The Joker's folder. Pulling it free, she exited her office door and headed for the elevators. Down the hall she could see the lanky figure of Dr. Arkham impatiently tapping his foot and pressing the 'down' button repeatedly. She glared at the back of his head for a moment before deciding to take the stairs. She would already have to endure an hour with that man today, and that was enough. _

_Once in the main hall she moved quickly to The Joker's cell, the small heels of her sensible business shoes clacking the cement loudly while she adjusted the collar of her white coat and pushed up her black-rimmed glasses. She came up to the reinforced double pane glass and peered in; it was empty. She referenced the transfer sheet hanging to the right of his cell door:_

Terry Moore, Rec Yard, 9:00 am

_So, they had given him recreation yard privileges. This was good! He could probably use the fresh air, and it meant that his behavioral improvements hadn't gone unnoticed. It was nearing the end of his second month at Arkham and some days were still better than others, but overall, he was doing better._

_"I just took him out, Doc", she heard a voice behind her explain. She turned to find Terry the orderly walking up behind her, "Thought his session wasn't till this afternoon."_

_"It is, but since Mr. Crane had to cancel, I thought today would be a good day for a double session. Would you mind accompanying me to escort Mr. Joker back to my office, please?"_

_"It's a date", he winked at her and her skin bubbled with goose bumps._

_She gave a forced grin, "Thank you", and began to walk toward the North exit of the Asylum. _

_It was a nice day and she felt bad for pulling The Joker out of the sunshine and fresh air for a session, but it would be good for him. She would request that he come back out later that day if they had no other plans for him. She scanned the large, green, well manicured yard that was perimetered heavily with high_ _fencing and coiled barbed wire. A guard stood at each corner and two walked slowly through the yard, monitoring the inmates' activities. There were two large trees in the middle surrounded by four picnic tables with benches, but not much else. This was a place where the inmates could come to relax, read, socialize, and enjoy the fresh air outside of their confinements for an hour or two a day. Many of them enjoyed it even more than the rec room since it was the closest thing to freedom that had known, or would know for years; maybe ever again. Dr. Quinzel spotted her patient in an isolated patch of grass, far from the other mingling inmates. He still wasn't socializing well and most of the other Asylum residents were afraid of him, but she had deduced that he preferred it that way. He was walking slowly, hands clasped together behind his back, staring down at the grass between his bare feet. His back was to her as she started walking in his direction._

_"Hey, Terry!" a guard called from their right, "You got a minute?"_

_"Can't you see I got a date?"_

_"Just a minute, man, come on."_

_The pudgy orderly rolled his eyes, "I'll be right behind ya, Doc. What is it you cock-block?" he yelled as he walked over to the guard._

_She shuddered and turned back to The Joker who was now raising both arms above his head. He extended his right leg out in front of him before swiftly throwing his palms onto the ground and lifting his legs into the air, noticing his doctor approaching him as he staggered his hands around in the grass to maintain his balance. _

_"Well, look at you!" she exclaimed, "You could have joined the circus."_

_"Is that a clown joke, Doc?" he asked, grinning at her._

_She smiled and cocked her head far to the right, trying to look upside down at him, "I meant as an acrobat."_

_He shook his head, "Wouldn't take me, I was a scrawny kid."_

_She was surprised and tried to disguise her excitement. He never mentioned anything about his past. She had to play this just right if she was going to get him to flow with it and not clam back up, make a joke, or change the subject. It was a delicate dance._

_"Well, then they were missing out. You would have made a terrific cannon ball", she responded casually._

_He chuckled, "Oh well, guess they can't take every run away runt who comes knockin', eh?"_

_The doctor's heart raced. _

_'Careful now', her cognitive voice warned her._

_"Maybe you should have tried Vegas", she suggested to him, "They're always looking for new talent."_

_"Is that were you went when you ran away, Doc?"_

_She was taken aback by his question and lost her focus. The moment was lost, he was just going to toy with her now. _

_'Damn.'_

_He smiled smugly at her and she straightened her head back up, "I had a cancelation today. Would you agree to do an extra session this morning?"_

_The Joker began opening and closing his thighs in the air, mimicking the movements one would make if they were creating a snow angel. His face was beginning to turn a shade of purple._

_"Soitn'ly!" he chirped, quoting Curly from The Three Stooges._

_She giggled._

_"Alright, Freak. Time for therapy, let's go", Terry walked up and stood beside The Joker's doctor._

_He shifted on his hands and brought his body to square off with the orderly's, "Well, if you insist", he cleared his throat, "Tell me Mr. Moore, vie do you tink a raven is like a writing desk?" he asked in the stereotypical psychiatric styling of Dr. Sigmund Freud. _

_His doctor snickered._

_"The fuck?" the orderly muttered, scrunching his face, "You've been upside down too long, Clown, now come on."_

_"Is that your excuse, Tubby, er, Terry?" he quickly corrected himself. _

_Dr. Quinzel bit her lip and held her breath, but her patient noticed and he was determined to get a laugh out of her._

_"Well, when I gave the fat kids swirlys, I usually held them up by their feet. Sometimes they'd be there for a while. I hear it can cause brain damage, but well, it's a hell of a lot easier than tryin' to shove one of 'em into a locker."_

_His doctor had to turn and face the other direction. She was going to lose it._

_Terry threw his hands against The Joker's knees and forced him to land flat on his back, knocking the air out of him with a loud, "Oof!"_

_"Mr. Moore!" the doctor yelled angrily._

_"Very funny, Clown", the chubby man sneered as he bent over The Joker's face, "Yeah I get it, I'm the fat kid, you're the bully, and this is _your _playground, right? Well guess what, Bully, kids grow up; and when they do, the bullies get a padded cell and the sweet little fat kids get the girls." _

_He stepped over to Dr. Quinzel and put his arm around her shoulders, "You smell nice."_

_She watched her patient's eyes slant and his nostrils flair, "That's quite enough, Mr. Moore" she demanded carefully as she removed his arm, "And this is not appropriate physical contact for the workplace."_

_Terry scoffed and squared himself back over The Joker's head, leaning back over his face, "Well, not the frigid ones, I guess." _

**[Final chorus from "Bullet with Butterfly Wings" by Smashing Pumpkins]**

_He began to laugh at his own joke, but was cut short when The Joker threw his long legs over his head and caught Terry by his skull, locking an ankle on each side. He then swung them down powerfully onto the ground beside him, bringing the orderly's thick head slamming into the grass. _

_Dr. Quinzel gasped._

_Terry rolled onto his back in shock as his bully shot up and stood over him, bringing a knee to his chest before slamming his foot down heel first onto his nose. There was a loud crunch sound and blood ran through the orderly's fingers as he cupped them over his face and yelped in pain. The Joker kicked his leg high into the air again, this time driving it down hard into Terry's stomach, making him cough loudly and sputter blood onto the grass as he rolled onto his side. His bully then began kicking him repeatedly with enormous force._

_The doctor rushed over and tried to grab her patient by the arm, "Mr. Joker, stop! Stop it!"_

_Without looking back, he placed a strong hand firmly in her stomach and shoved her away. It hadn't been a very forceful push, but she lost her footing and fell backward onto the moist grass, staining the seat of her khaki pants. He stopped kicking the now crumpled and bloody body of the orderly and looked over his shoulder at her, turning to make two massive strides toward her with his long legs. She fearfully retreated backwards a few feet in a crab-crawl fashion before he leaned over her and stuck out his hand. She looked at it in confusion, then back up at him. His face was unchanged; it still harbored a sadistic malice and rage that made her bones freeze. She wondered, if she took his hand, whether he would help her up or break her arm. He suddenly raised his eyebrows and impatiently shook his hand in front of her, splaying his fingers. She cautiously reached up and grabbed it, and he tightened his large fist around hers, jerking her onto her feet. She crashed into his chest and stared wildly into his furious eyes. This was the closest they had ever been without a glass barrier between them. His hand still gripped hers tightly and she could smell peppermint as he breathed heavily on her face, clenching his jaw while she swallowed the lump in her throat._

_Unexpectedly, the air was knocked out of her and she was on her back in the grass again. The Joker's body landed roughly on top of her and she caught the brief scent of the skin on his neck before the two guards who had just tackled them forced him back onto his feet and into hand and ankle cuffs. Their eyes locked briefly as he was pulled off of her and a keen sideways grin spread across his lips._

_One of the guards turned to her, "You ok, Harleen?" he asked with sincere concern. _

_Simon hooked his arms under her shoulders and lifted her onto her feet. The other guard was aggressively guiding her patient back inside, but he didn't appear to be struggling. Two more guards were now kneeling next to the blood stained Terry on the grass as he rolled side to side, holding is nose. _

_"That fucking Freak! He broke my nose! Ah!"_

_She glanced back up in the direction of her patient. The guard had stopped with him at the security doors while he swiped his I.D. badge. The Joker looked back at her and she saw a smile spread across his face as his body began to shake. He threw his head back and the shrieking laugh escaped loudly through is open mouth. _

_"Shut up!" the guard yelled and jerked his arm, pulling him through the doors. _

_She could still hear his wild cackling as they closed behind them._

"Harleen?"

She removed her hand from her eyes and looked up at Simon's concerned face.

"I'm fine", she said again and sat up in the bed, bringing her legs over the edge, "I have patients to see."

"Dr. Arkham canceled your patients."

"What?" she felt her blood boil.

"Yeah, he said you should take the rest of the day off and have a nice, long, three day weekend."

'That's right, it's Friday.'

She leaned forward and put her elbows in her knees, releasing a frustrated sigh, "If you take me home, how am I supposed to get my car?"

"I can come by and grab you tomorrow on my way to work. It's no biggie, really."

She sat back up and gave him a small grin. He really was a nice guy. They had dated briefly when she first began at Arkham as an intern, but nothing ever became of it. Harleen broke things off after a month, blaming her heavy schedule for the disruption in the relationship which she secretly knew meant nothing to her. She often regretted sleeping with him, but what was done was done. She didn't know why she was never attracted to him. He was a really good looking guy; sandy blonde hair, blue eyes, olive skin. She thought he looked like he would be better suited as a lifeguard in Miami than a security guard at Arkham. Then again, maybe she just hadn't had _time_ to be attracted…to anyone. This sure wasn't the job she thought it would be.

The healthcare system was changing, and not just for her. Every profession involved was having their fair share of dealing with the escalading demand for medical treatment. Obesity, cancer, drug resistant disease, mental illness, diabetes, and a rapidly increasing homeless population fought a constant battle against the field of medicine. It didn't help that America's society had turned into one that expected a little magic pill to provide an instantaneous cure for the very lifestyle that was killing it. It wasn't like the old days when you saw a doctor if you got a broken arm or a really bad infection. Now, emergency rooms, private practices, hospitals, physical therapy clinics, and mental health wards were boiling over with the masses of people who sought care for every tiny ailment.

And couldn't pay; that was the thing. Patient load goes up, reimbursement goes down, and quality of care follows. It was difficult to help people who didn't want to help themselves, and the system had turned into a conveyor belt of patients. Treat 'em and street 'em. The payment issue was a little different at Arkham since it was considered a prison and paid for by the people, but the issue of 'too many patients and not enough docs' remained the same, and she was exhausted.

"Yeah, you need some rest", Simon replied as he scanned her tired features sympathetically, "Come on, I'll take you home."

Harleen felt she might as well comply.

She could use a long rest.


	7. Faking It

Harleen stared out the window almost the entire ride back to her apartment. She felt bad for not talking with Simon, he seemed uncomfortable and shifted in his driver's seat, but she absolutely had nothing to say. She wondered what Monday would bring; if she would be starting her new patient evaluation on Pamela Isley or packing her office. It would be strange not to have The Joker in her schedule anymore.

_'The Joker.'_

Her heart started to pound and she felt her palms moisten. She began recalling flashes of the previous night as her mind fought a battle across the fine line between fear and unwelcome arousal.

"It's on the right, right?" Simon smirked at her.

She gave a sideways grin at his attempt to make a joke, "Right", she answered.

He chuckled.

"You can just let me out here", she said, opening the door while the car continued to move.

It jolted to a stop as he tapped on the brake, "I'll walk you up."

"No", she tried not to sound rude or nervous, "No, uh, that's ok. You can see me from here. I'll be fine."

"Oh", he seemed disheartened, "Ok. So, I'll pick you up tomorrow?"

"Um", she glanced up at her living room window which overlooked the parking lot half expecting to see his face peering through the curtains, "I'll uh, I'll call you ok? I may want to just sleep, you know?"

"Sure."

"Thanks for the ride, Simon. Bye." She jumped out and shut the door, quickly ascending the stairs.

"Bye, Harleen", he whispered and watched her unlock the door before driving away.

Harleen paused and took a deep breath before turning the knob to her apartment. She opened the door slowly and stood in the frame for a moment; it was quiet. She let out the breath she had been holding and stepped inside. Her living room was hidden from view by the open door and as she went to close it she suddenly noticed the dancing lights of color reflecting onto her couch from the television.

"Honey…"

She jolted violently and dropped her files and purse on the floor.

"…I'm home", he said as he came up behind her and finished closing the door, turning the two dead bolts.

She turned around to face him. He was clad in his usual purple and green three piece suit, face freshly painted and a green tint in his curly hair. Whatever he used for his hair color made it look greasy and unkept. He pointed a half eaten sandwich in her face, gesturing if she'd like a bite. She shook her head nervously and he shrugged as he took another bite.

"How was your day at the office, Dear?" he asked facetiously through the corner of his mouth as he chewed, "Did they finally find 'me'?"

She nodded and he chuckled in his throat, looking down at the mess she had made on the floor when she dropped her things.

"Rough day?" he asked.

She nodded again.

"Aw, come now", he cooed and pulled her head to his chest.

He was much taller than she and it fit easily under his chin. Her arms remained at her sides as he surrounded her with his long ones and squeezed. Her back popped and she grunted.

"Come on", he said releasing her and heading to the couch, "Let's see what's on GCNN with Vicky Vale."

Taking a seat, he changed the channel with the remote and looked over at her, crossing an ankle over his knee. She couldn't move.

"Come on", he insisted as he patted the couch cushion next to him.

She was getting a migraine and her legs felt as though they were bolted to the floor. He sighed in frustration and looked at the television. His face changed and she could see he was growing impatient.

"Don't make me _make_ you, Harley", he warned darkly.

She swallowed and walked slowly over, lowering herself into the spot where he had gestured. He put his arm around her and pulled her in close to his side as he turned up the volume on the television. The Gotham City News Network aired 24 hours a day and was usually the most up to date. She knew he was anxious to see 'his' story plastered on the screen for everyone to see, and sure enough, there it was. The Breaking News story of the day:

_Joker Escapes Arkham Asylum, One Dead_

Vicki Vale was covering the story, "Security guards at Arkham Asylum were shocked this morning to discover that the body which had been lying on the cot in The Joker's cell was _not_ the sleeping inmate. An orderly alerted security early this morning after revealing the dead body had been left in his place. The body belongs to Terrance Moore, another employee of the Asylum who worked in the high profile wing where The Joker was kept. Further investigation is being conducted to determine how long the body had been there and how the infamous killer could have escaped. No sightings have been reported since his disappearance and it is speculated that he may actually still be hiding on the grounds of Arkham Island."

The Joker snickered.

"Commissioner, Jim Gordon, has issued this warning to the public, 'This man is highly dangerous. It is recommended that all citizens are locked inside their homes before sunset this evening and do not travel alone.' It has also been recommended that if anyone witnesses anything unusual or sees a man fitting the description of The Joker, the GCPD be alerted immediately."

Two images of The Joker appeared on the screen: one was his mug shot from Arkham without makeup, the other was an image taken from the video broadcast he had made of himself six months ago.

"More on this story as it develops", Vale concluded.

"Look, Sugar, I'm famous!" he exclaimed.

Harleen closed her eyes. She felt dizzy and her head pounded. She felt him gently pinch her chin between his thumb and index finger and lift her face to meet his. She opened her eyes and looked up at him.

His brows were furrowed as he studied her face, "You sick or somethin'?"

She was surprised at this ruthless murderer's genuine display of concern and wondered why he had decided to return to her apartment since he clearly did not intend on adding her to his list of bodies. She was scanning his features hazily when there was a knock at the door.

"Gotham Police", said a male voice on the other side.

The Joker's focus shot to the door, then back to Harleen, and he glared down at her like a parent who had just caught his kid stealing. He narrowed his eyes and turned his head away, maintaining eye contact to glare at her through the corner of his slitted lids while he clenched his jaw. Her mouth parted and her eyes widened as she began to nervously shake her head at him, unable to defend herself verbally. Another knock came from the door.

"Dr. Quinzel? The Commissioner asked that we come by to check on you, Ma'am."

The Joker's intense stare relaxed slightly and he stood up quickly, yanking her to her feet by her elbow and digging his thumb into her ulnar nerve. An electrical shock shot down her arm and made her pinky and ring finger tingle uncomfortably, but she was too afraid to cry out. He led her to the door and pushed her in front of it before pulling a knife out of his coat.

"Answer it", he commanded in a whisper, sweet breath brushing her face.

She shuddered and he placed himself against the wall where he would be hidden as the door opened. SHe opened the door to find two police officers: one looked remarkably young and she wondered if he was even as old as she was, the other was much more seasoned and she guessed it must have been his voice she had heard through the door.

"Afternoon, Ma'am", he greeted politely as he touched a finger to his hat, "The Commissioner asked that we stop by to check on you. He wanted to come himself, but he's been at the Asylum all morning. He saw you lose consciousness in the hall earlier and just wanted to make sure you were feeling alright."

"Oh", she tried to sound calm, "that's very kind of him, and you, for coming out here. I'm just fine."

"If you don't feel safe staying here alone, we can make arrangements for you."

"Oh, no, that won't be necessary." She cleared her throat and forced a grin.

"Well, if you're sure."

"I am. Thank you, officers."

The rookie turned to leave but the older cop furrowed his eyebrows, unconvinced. He lowered his voice, "Dr. Quinzel, if something's the matter…"

_'Pull it together, Harleen!'_

She smiled brightly and answered, "I'm fine really. I was watching the broadcast about this morning when you knocked and it startled me."

She giggled innocently and the officer looked relieved.

"Alrighty then, Doctor. You have a good day and let us know if you change your mind about relocating."

He touched his hat again and started down the stairs. Harleen shut the door behind them and turned the deadlocks. She could see The Joker resting against the wall in her peripheral vision, arms crossed in his chest, and wondered why she hadn't said or done something. She could have swung the door in The Joker's face and jumped into the arms of the police, screaming frantically. By the time he would have emerged from behind the door, their guns would have been drawn. She attempted to justify her actions by telling herself that she didn't want anyone to get hurt because she knew what The Joker was really capable of; he could have killed those cops in two seconds, guns or no guns. It was also her professional duty to protect the well-being of her patient and if she had done anything other than what she had just then, he would never trust her again.

Her eyes remained locked onto the door while he slowly approached her, chuckling in his throat.

"You know", he said, wrapping an arm around the small of her back and shaking a finger in her face, "you had me worried at first."

She looked up at him with heavy lids. He squinted his eyes at her and gently knocked his knuckles on her head.

"Hello in there", he teased.

An involuntary smirk escaped her lips, but she was too tired to think. All she wanted to do was lie in the floor right where they stood and sleep. He took a step back from her and studied her face for a moment. The glossy colors on his face seemed to blur together and she wondered again why he was here. He sniffed and took one of her small hands in his gloved one.

"Come on."

He led her back to the bedroom and removed his coat, resting it on the arm chair in the corner of her room. She could feel herself begin to waver back and forth while she stood limply where he had left her. He removed his purple leather gloves to place a bare hand along her clammy forehead and she closed her eyes. She hadn't felt as though she was falling, but his arms were suddenly wrapped tightly around her waist, catching her in the decent.

"Whoa!", he exclaimed, "Alright, in the bed, Drunkie."

He scooped her up from the floor, walked over to the bed, and laid her down gently before rolling over her and propping himself up on an elbow at her side. She caught his scent as he moved past and her back arched slightly under her. Sleep. She just wanted to sleep. Rolling her head to the side, their eyes met briefly before she gave up the fight with her heavy lids, drifting quickly off as a reminiscent triad of vivid colors danced through her exhausted mind.


	8. Civil War

Harleen parted her eyes slightly; it was dark now. She glanced up at the digital alarm clock next to her bed; 8:14 pm. Her head felt like it would explode. She tried to recall what had happened in the past few hours, but none of it seemed very real. She sat up slowly and looked around her room which was dimly lit by the streetlamps outside. The bedroom door was shut but she could hear noises coming from the other side. Head throbbing, she rose to her feet and walked towards the door, turning the knob slowly. The living room was lit only by the tall standing lamp in the corner and a cascade of colors danced on the walls projected from the television. From the doorway she could see two large bare feet crossed one over the other and propped against one end of the back of the couch, tapping the air to a silent rhythm. On the other end, she could see the top of a file folder hovering as the pages were being slowly turned. She began to enter the room and could hear The Joker humming to himself as he relaxed on the furniture.

She made another few steps closer and heard him giggle to himself, "Woo hoo hoo! What a nutcase!"

'He's reading patient files! Those are confidential, damnit!'

She increased her stride and marched forward, intent on snatching the file from him, but just as her head cleared the back of the couch a sharp pain emitted from beneath her left eye and it felt like it would pop from her skull. She collapsed on the floor and sparks flew in her vision as the volume of the pain increased its intensity to a red hot throbbing.

_"What are you, fuckin' stupid or somethin'?" the woman's voice was slurred and barely coherent, "I asked you to do one goddamn thing, Harleen."_

_Harleen jumped down from the stepstool she was perched upon and desperately tried to clean the spilled soup off the kitchen floor with a dirty towel._

_The woman staggered in her direction, bumping into the frame of the doorway and nearly knocking over the trashcan, "Now what the hell is your father suppose to eat when he gets home? Oh, you're gonna get it, get it, get it…" her voice trailed off and became a whisper under her breath._

_The young girl yelped in pain as her face was forced into the linoleum, banging hard against her left cheekbone, "Do I gotta do you like a dog that pisses in the house? Bad-bad- girl!" the woman's drunk voice shouted as she slammed her head into the floor with each word._

"Shit, shit, shit!" The Joker exclaimed under his breath as he leapt over the back of the couch and landed in a kneeling position next to her. He was stripped down to his purple boxers and a white tank top, face washed clean of its mask.

"Har-ha! Harley, I'm so-ha ha! I'm really sorry! You can't sneak up on me like that, Pumpkin."

He was laughing loudly between his words as he tried to make her look up at him but she covered her cheek with a hand and pushed him away. His laughter infuriated her, and without thinking, she reached out to the place on his hip where the gash had been and dug her finger down deep. His laughter ceased abruptly and he quickly snatched her wrist, yanking her arm toward him so she was facing him nose to nose. His usual boyish charm towards her made it easy to forget just who she was dealing with sometimes. He squeezed her arm hard, but she could tell he was using a great deal of self restraint. He had broken inmate's arms at the Asylum for much less than what she had just done.

He pointed a finger in her face and spoke sternly and deeply, "Now, I hit you by accident and I said I was sorry. You do somethin' like that again, and I _won't_ be apologizing."

She was too angry to be afraid of him, and now not only did her head hurt, but her face was screaming. They stared at each other for another moment before his face relaxed slightly and he loosened the grip on her arm, "Here, lemme see."

She allowed him to cup her chin and examine her face as he sighed, "Yep, that's gonna be a shiner", he stood up and walked to the kitchen, "You got like a steak in here or somethin'?"

She didn't answer. As far a she knew, there wasn't even so much as a T.V. dinner in that refrigerator. A moment later she heard a rumbling coming from the ice maker. The Joker returned with a towel packed with frozen cubes and stood over her, extending his free hand.

_Déjà vu._

She took it without hesitating and he lifted her gently to her feet. Placing a hand in the small of her back he led her to the couch where she sat down, still covering her eye. He put a hand on her shoulder and pushed her back gingerly, laying her down before squeezing to sit next to her on the edge of the seat. He leaned over her and removed her hand, placing the towel on her face; the cold pressure felt good.

"So, am I your first?" he asked with a sideways grin.

She looked up at him with her other eye.

"Your first black eye", he explained.

She broke eye contact, "Yeah", she was a terrible liar. She knew it, and so did he.

His smile disappeared and they sat in silence for a moment, "He got a name?" he asked finally, "I'm gonna need a first and last. Social Security number if you have it."

Harleen smiled slightly.

"I'll rip his damn lungs out", The Joker said as if he were losing an argument.

She reached up and grabbed the towel from him, keeping it pressed to her head as she sat up, "Not necessary, ouch!" Sitting up sent her head into palpitations, "My head is fucking killing me."

"D'you hit it when you fell?"

"No, it woke me up."

"Well, you're just all kinds of broken tonight, aren't ya?" he was trying unsuccessfully to make her smile and she felt slightly guilty.

"Hungry?" he asked.

She hadn't realized it until he said something, but she was famished, having had nothing since her frozen waffle and yogurt breakfast.

"Yeah", she answered between beats of her head. She had gotten bad about forgetting to eat in the last month or two.

That explains the headaches.

"You rike Chinese?" he quipped.

She nodded.

"Chinese it is! I order you flied lice. You feew betta'!" he jested as he leapt up from the couch.

She chuckled.

"Hey, now that's more like it", he said softly, rubbing her chin with his thumb.

Harleen had taken two Tylenol while The Joker ordered Chinese food from the local take-out restaurant in the racially stereotyped accent he had used to make her laugh, "Yeah, and rots and rots of flied lice, preeze."

She knew she would never be able to order from them again, but it was still hilarious. After she had plenty to eat and lots of water, her head felt 100% better, and her face wasn't too bad either. She sat across the table from her patient, emotionally torn and utterly confused about the situation she couldn't believe she was in. She tried to work out in her head how they had gotten here, how she had let this happen. It was true that the interaction with her patient had developed a flirtatious tone in the last few months, but that was part of his allure, his charm. She had always rationalized it by telling herself that he behaved that way to all the women at Arkham, which for the most part, was true after his behavior took a better turn. Of course, none of the other women at Arkham responded quite the way she did. Most of them reacted with nervous stares and avoided him in the hallways. She told herself it was because they hadn't spent as much time with him as she had. They didn't _understand_ him the way she did; that there was something much more docile lurking under the sharp monstrous exterior that most people judged him by. Sure, he was prone to sudden outbursts of violent rage, but he hadn't gotten truly upset with anyone since he beat Terry Moore to a pulp in the rec yard….

…scratch that. _Killed_ Terry Moore and dragged his dead body into his cell as a decoy while he escaped to _her _apartment where she had _sex_ with him. Harleen sighed and rested her undamaged cheek in her hand, leaning on the table as she watched him eat.

'Oh man, this is bad, the whole situation', her inner voice admitted.

The doctor in her wanted to tell him that he must return to the Asylum immediately, no exceptions, but the _other _woman in her argued another point; they didn't want to help him. Jerry had basically admitted that they were only trying to probe him for details about his past to fit in with the police investigation. He would never recover if he could not trust the people who treated him, and he trusted her, she knew it. To Dr. Harleen Quinzel, next to hope, trust was the most important element of rehabilitation and she refused to break it. Her brows furrowed slightly in her thought process.

'Other woman? Who is _she_?'

The Joker was waving an arm in front of her gaze and she snapped to.

"I said 'How are you feeling?'" he asked.

She blinked quickly and sat up in her seat, "Better, much better, thank you."

"And uh, my handiwork?" he gestured to her cheek.

She smiled softly, "It's fine, learned my lesson that's for sure. You're quick! I didn't even see your hand."

"It was a fist, actually", he admitted in shame through the corner of his mouth.

"It's fine", she reassured him.

She got up with her dish and walked to the kitchen, rinsing it in the sink, still trying to mentally solve her dilemma as the warm water ran over her hands. Maybe he didn't need the Asylum, maybe that place was all wrong for a mind like his. After all, psychiatric treatment wasn't defined by the facility in which it took place, and he would probably benefit more away from the dark padded cell and abusive guards of Arkham. She could still help him. As she pondered, a hand crept around her waist and the finger tips slid up her shirt, resting on her bare stomach while the brush of warm breath and soft kisses on her neck made her knees weak.

It took a lot of self control to say, "Joker, no."

"Joker?" he asked, sounding hurt, "What happened to _Mr._ Joker?"

She turned around to face him and he planted his arms on the counter, surrounding her with dark lust in his eyes.

"I didn't feel it was necessary to be that formal given the situation", she answered.

He started kissing her collar bone, "But what if I like it?"

She put her head back and closed her eyes for a second, but quickly shook herself.

'Control, Harleen.'

He placed a hand on her lower back and pulled her into him. She could feel his very prominent arousal press against her and her pelvis hitched involuntarily.

'Traitor.'

She pushed his chest away with her hands. His muscles weren't bulky or very large, but his tall lean frame was expertly chiseled like a perfect sculpture.

"Would you prefer Mr. J?", she asked coyly.

'What the hell are you doing? Don't tease him!'

He gave her a satisfied grin before closing his lips onto hers and their tongues touched briefly as she felt her temperature rise.

"Wait! No, no we can't do this again."

She broke away from him to the living room and sat on the couch trying desperately to gather her senses. Every nerve in her body was on fire and she hated herself for being so attracted to him. It was animalistic, hormonal, chemical, but she knew she could control it if she tried.

He sat down next to her, "Yeah? And why is that?"

The Doctor in her spoke first, "Well first of all, it's completely unprofessional; I'm your doctor."

"You're whatever I want you to be now that I'm no longer confined to a cell," he stated, casually placing an arm around her on the back on the couch, "and I already told what that is. Don't try to pretend like it's not exactly who you wanna be… _Princess_."

"Secondly," she continued, attempting to scoot away from him, "we weren't being very smart. We used zero protection the other night."

'Are you nuts? You can't seriously be insisting that your mass murdering, criminal, psychiatric patient use a condom before you have sex… _again_?'

He raised an eyebrow at her, "You mean to tell me you don't read the medical charts of your patients, Doctor Quinzel?"

She didn't know what he meant, of course read them.

He sniffed, cleared his throat, and reached down for the pile of files lying on the floor. Fishing his from the stack, he opened it to the medical examination page.

"Riiiiiiight there", his finger scanned the page and stopped on a spot.

She read the print:

_Past Surgical History: Tonsillectomy, appendectomy, vasectomy _

"Vasectomy?" she asked, slightly shocked.

He clicked his tongue against his teeth as he mimed scissors cutting with his index and middle fingers.

"But, why?"

"Do I really seem like the kinda guy who needs to be procreating?" he asked, taking the file back from her.

She studied his face for a moment while he scanned the file, "How old are you?"

He smirked, "Does it matter?"

"You just seem so young to have already undergone a vasectomy."

"Well, Cutie Pie", he retorted confidently, "I know how old _you_ are and some might call me a cradle robber, but I figure a woman should be allowed to make her own decisions, don't you?"

She grinned slyly at him, "How much older?"

"And just in case you were wondering", he continued, ignoring the question to point at another section of the record.

_Sexually Transmitted Diseases: None_

"So!" he said slapping the folder shut, tossing it over his shoulder and leaning over her, headed once again for her neck, "Where were we?" he breathed onto her.

She shuddered and fought against the primal urge to pull him down on top of her.

"Mr. J, no. Wait, wait!"

He let out a frustrated sigh, but was still smiling at her. To him, this was a game.

"Ok, but what about the ethics of it?", she asked.

He sat back, "Ethics? You weren't worried about ethics the other night. Didn't say a word about them", he looked thoughtful for a moment, "Really, the only thing you did say was something like, 'Oh! Oh god! Don't stop! Oh Joker! Joker! Oh GOD!" he teased in a high pitched voice.

She laughed with embarrassment and smacked his shoulder playfully, "Nuh-uh! Look, what happened the other night was inexcusable on my part, I know that."

"Oh, I can excuse it", he grinned as he tried to pull back her collar and peek into her blouse.

She slapped his hand away, "I'm serious! Mr. J, we have to maintain a _professional _relationship."

He sat back again, "What if I don't want our relationship to be 'professional'? Besides, if what _we_ did is so inexcusable, they why did you go through with it? I didn't rape you, ya know."

"No, you didn't, I wasn't accusing you of rape. I'm not quite sure why I allowed it to happen, but-"

"-Because you wanted it to", he interjected seriously, "Ya know, you really pissed me off with that little 'progress' speech you made that night; pointing the finger at me, making me out to be the monster, treating me like I'm some sort of fucking science experiment of yours gone wrong."

His eyes darkened and she shifted nervously in her seat, "I never meant to-"

"-I really did think I was gonna kill you, which was a shame, 'cause that wasn't exactly my intention for you over the last six months."

She clasped her hands together in her lap, "Mr. J, I assure you, you are no science experiment-"

"-Then you did something I really didn't expect, and I'm the kinda guy who expects the unexpected", he leaned over to her and placed a rough hand softly on her cheek, "You apologized."

She felt her pulse return to a normal pace as the malice faded from his dark gaze. She could also feel the guilt rise in her stomach as she realized how she had made her patient feel, making her want to apologize again, but he continued.

"You've got them fooled like they've got you fooled, but I'm no fool, Harley Quinn. " He grabbed her hand and pulled her to him, "Kiss me", he whispered.

"I can't."

"But do you _want_ to?"

She hesitated and he spread his index and middle fingers, placing them underneath his eyes, "If you can look me in the eyes and tell me you honestly don't want me here, I'll go."

She opened her mouth to speak, but the words caught in her throat. He raised his eyebrows at her, awaiting her answer, but she didn't have one. The Doctor and the Other Woman were battling a raging war inside of her, but she came completely undone when his pheromone crept into her senses. The Joker received the answer he wanted when her eyes rolled back and her lids fluttered closed as she let out a quiet moan. He pulled her into a passionate kiss that made her swoon and all reason or ethical conscience was drowned out.

The Other Woman had won this battle.


	9. Bad Boy Syndrome

Harleen snorted loudly and flailed her extremities, causing her to fling herself from the couch and onto the hard carpet with a _thud_. The noise that had woken her went silent for a moment only to twitter brightly again as the cell phone vibrated loudly and lit up on the kitchen table. The coat that had been laid over her, keeping her warm, now slipped onto the floor next to her and the chill of the room sent goosebumps spreading over her naked body. The ringing ceased then started again. She hazily stood up and scratched her head while she yawned and walked over to it, shivering slightly. The name 'Simon' danced on the screen of the smart phone and she picked it up to slide the green bar across face.

"Simon, hey" she answered.

"Hey, Harleen. Did I wake you up?"

"Uh, yeah, but it's ok" she replied, scooping the purple suit coat up from the floor and pulling it on. The fabric on the inside was a green silk that felt nice against her skin. She could smell him in it and wrapped it snuggly around her, grinning sleepily.

"I was just on my way to work. Do you still want me to pick you up so you can get your car?" he asked.

She glanced back into her bedroom to find an empty bed before answering, "Uh, yeah sure, that would be great. I'll just need a minute to…change." She had almost given away too much information, "I'll meet you downstairs."

"OK, I'll be there in about five."

She thanked him and slid the red bar to end the call as she searched the apartment; he was gone. She returned to the living room to retrieve the clothes she had worn the day before, picking up her white blouse to inspect the place where the buttons had once been.

"Guess I'm not wearing this", she smirked.

Last night had been even more passionate than their first and he had gotten frustrated with the buttons as he kissed her, finally ripping her shirt apart in the heat of the moment like one would read a trashy romance novel. It had made both of them laugh, but she had still scolded him for his impatience since new clothes were not a luxury she could afford to buy each time he lost his cool. She tossed the torn garment into the corner and walked over to the door in the short hallway between her bedroom and living room. She had always thought it was a ridiculous place for a walk-in closet, but that was the design of the apartment. She took down the first shirt she saw and pulled it over her head before grabbing a hoodie and doing the same. After throwing on some comfortable sweatpants she slipped her shoes on quickly and grabbed her keys and purse. She unlocked the front door and stepped out, turning back to lock it again when she suddenly realized she had the purple coat hanging over her forearm and jumped quickly back inside.

'Shit! Mind your surroundings you foolish girl!', her subconscious scolded, 'What if someone had seen? Not everyone runs around with a purple and green suit coat, ya know?'

She walked back and placed it on her bed, spreading it out meticulously and flattening the wrinkles with her palm. She stroked the silk lining with her fingertips and made sure the collar was turned under on its crease perfectly. She stood there for another moment staring down at it, but a knock at the door broke her mindless trance and she shook her head.

"Hey, sorry to rush you, but I don't wanna be late", Simon apologized after she opened the front door, "I saw you come out, but you went back inside. Did you forget something?"

"Oh, yeah I got it", she lied.

"What the hell happened to your eye?" he asked, grabbing her chin and turning her face into the sunlight.

"Oh, I uh, I think I must have banged it when I collapsed yesterday."

Fibs were definitely not her specialty, but perhaps her technique was improving; Simon seemed to have bought it. The drive to the Asylum was another silent and awkward one. Their brief relationship had been the same way. So had the sex; quiet, polite, and awkward. They had absolutely nothing in common besides the place they worked. Harleen sighed and pressed her folded hands between her knees.

"Sucks you have to work on a Saturday" she mentioned.

She hated small talk but the silence was deafening.

"It's not so bad", he responded, "Especially now that The Freak is missing. Not that I'm glad he's out there, and we have no idea where."

Her nostrils flared; there was that word again. She picked her cell phone up from her lap and pressed the display button. Her mind began to wander into a slew of questions: Where _did_ he go when he left her apartment? And how did he manage not to be seen? And how the hell did he keep getting in and out of her place when it was locked up? He had always had a knack for that, it seemed; his cell, her office, her apartment, a high security prison…where was he? She looked at her phone again, not sure what she was looking for. She thought about the time he had called her at home to relay some bad news, or rub it in rather.

_She had been sitting at her kitchen table, reading case notes and unable to sleep. The phone startled her when it rang noisily from her purse next to the door. _

_"Who the hell?" she asked out loud; it was almost midnight._

_She fished for the phone and finally retrieved it from the messy bag, but the number was unknown. Normally she would refuse to answer, but she figured it would be too late for telemarketers and feared it might be an emergency._

_"Quinzel", she answered in a professional tone._

_"Miss me?" asked the low male voice on the other end, "My nose was itching…or is it that my ears were burning? I can never remember how the old saying goes."_

_Her heart began to beat wildly._

_ "Mr. Joker?" she whispered._

_"I just wanted to call and see how you were taking the news", he sounded as though he was trying not to be heard._

_"Mr. Joker, you promised", she reprimanded in a half whine._

_"I'm still in my cell, never left. I'm a man of my word, Baby."_

_"Then how are you calling me? And how did you get my number?"_

_She was very aggravated with him. These games were not funny, but she knew he found them hilarious. _

_"Ms. Vale has some news for you", he remarked, avoiding her questions._

_Her mind raced in slight panic. _

_'What has he done?'_

_She hurried over to her television and turned it on, changing the channel to the GCNN. Harleen's heart sank as she read the caption of the story that the anchorwoman was reporting:_

Six Dead in Gruesome Murder-Suicide

_The picture in the top right corner was a mug shot of her former patient, Clancy Steerman. The sound was muted, but the caption was all she needed. She lowered herself slowly onto the couch and stared at the screen in horror, still holding the phone to her ear._

_She heard The Joker sigh before saying in feigned sympathy, "I hate to say 'I told you so', I really do. Now, _technically_ he can't come back to the Asylum, having blown his brains all over the inside of that family's home after he murdered them, but I still feel like the terms we established constitute a win on my end, don't you?"_

_She couldn't speak. She couldn't think. _

_"I'll be looking forward to our next session, Dr. Quinzel", was the last thing she heard before the connection was cut. _

"So, did you sleep alright?", Simon's voice broke through her thoughts.

Harleen looked up from her phone, "Huh? Oh, yeah."

They were pulling up toward the security gates where Simon slowed to a halt and flashed his I.D. badge to Cash.

"Hey, man", Simon greeted him.

"Mornin', Sy" he responded, leaning down to look across the car at Harleen, "Doctor." He gave Simon one of those secret male telepathic looks that suggested she had been with him all night, "Ya'll have a good day, now", he said and Simon drove through the gates as they opened.

'Perfect.'

The guard parked his car in the spot next to Harleen's and opened the door for her.

"Thanks again", she smiled at him and searched her purse for her keys, blowing her disheveled hair from her face as pieces fell into her vision.

"Harleen", he sounded nervous, "I really wanna talk to you about something."

"Yeah?" she asked without looking up.

He took the hand that was digging in her bag and held it in both of his. She knew instantly what was coming and suddenly wished she had never picked up the phone that morning.

"Can we just try again? I know how hard you work and I respect that. I don't care that you have to spend more time focusing on your career than hanging out with me, I just...I just wanna be with you. I've really missed you."

She looked up at him and he pushed a piece of hair behind her ear. She wanted to crawl under the car. How was it that the gentle touch of this amazingly sweet and incredibly handsome guy made her feel completely nothing, when the rough touch of a blood lusting criminal had made her entire body convulse with sheer pleasure only a few hours ago?

"Simon", she sighed, but she didn't know what to say to him.

He placed the hand that had brushed her hair onto her cheek, "Come on, Harleen. This place does something to people, it gets in their head. Don't you think that makes us connected in some way?"

She fought the look she wanted to give him; like he was an idiot.

'So, we need to be together because we're just two big ol' head cases?'

He placed his lips gently on hers, but she pulled away and he looked hurt.

"Harleen, this is silly, we're so compatible. Don't you remember all the fun we use to have?"

'No.'

She remembered being bored out of her mind and feared they would end up like one of those dull looking couples that silently hold each other's hand in line at the movies.

"And don't tell me you've forgotten…the _other_ stuff, I know I haven't", he suggested slyly and tried to kiss her again.

"Simon, I just don't think I can handle intimacy right now. I'm sorry, I don't want to be mean or hurt your feelings, but I just…can't…right now."

'Shit. Don't end with that, it gives him hope.'

He looked so disappointed and she really did feel terrible. He removed his hand in defeat and looked at the ground.

"I really am sorry", she admitted.

"Sure. Yeah. Ok", he sounded aggravated.

"Now don't be like that, come on. I thought you said you were ok with just being friends for a while-"

"-Yeah, well, I guess I'm not" he cut her off angrily. She had never seen him angry. They stood in another awkward silence for a moment; seemed to be a common theme with him.

"I gotta go, I'm late", he muttered looking at his watch, "See you around, Dr. Quinzel."

He turned and walked with long angry strides to the front security doors while she stood and watched him enter the building.

"Well, that's just great", she said out loud to herself.

Harleen made a mental to-do list on the way home, number one being to get to the grocery store. She would need to check her account and make sure she had enough since payday wasn't until next week. She was getting really tired of living paycheck to paycheck. Luckily, her little blue Prius didn't use much gas and she lived close to work. She pulled it into her parking lot at the apartment and took a look in the mirror before getting out. There was a much defined black and blue bump on her left cheek bone and she winced as she poked at it. It was going to be an irritating task to lie to everyone at work for the next week. She turned the key in the lock to her front door and opened it, half expecting to see a grinning face staring back at her, but the room was empty. She threw her purse on the kitchen table and walked back to her bedroom, think how much she would love a nice hot shower. When she entered the room, she found that the neatly placed coat had been taken from her bed and replaced with a single red rose. She stared at it in disapproval for a moment, but finally gave into the temptation to grin and lift it to her face, closing her eyes…nice guys like Simon had never gotten her roses.


	10. Counteragent

The morning after The Joker had called Harleen to bring her attention to the disappointing news cast about her former patient was a particularly difficult one, both physically and emotionally. She hadn't slept at all that night. After he ended the call, she had turned up the volume on the television and listened as Vicki Vale informed the public of her horrible mistake and the lives it had cost. She hadn't exactly come right out and blamed her in that manner, but Harleen's conscience interpreted it that way. Clancy Steerman had broken into the home of a suburban family earlier that evening, claiming that 'They' were coming for him and he needed 'a place to hide'. At least that is what the last surviving member of the family told police just before he gave his final breath. When the family refused to harbor the crazed stranger against the invisible demons he fled from, he pulled out a gun and shot the husband twice in the stomach. He then turned the gun on his screaming wife, shooting her once through the head. The children must have heard the noise and came down to investigate. The eldest boy, 13, was shot once in the arm and again in the chest. The girl, 5, was shot in the back, and the infant…

…he was strangled.

Steerman then turned the gun on himself. Had he realized what he had just done, or was he just desperately trying to avoid 'them'? No one knew.

**[_"Hallelujah" by Jeff Buckly_ (I like his version better than the rest)]**

Harleen thought she had destroyed 'them'. She thought he would finally be able to live a normal life. She thought he was…_cured_. She drew a hot bath and sunk deep into it as she wept, wanting to drown in it. She wanted to submerge her face and never come up for another breath. She would have if she thought it would bring that family back, erase it all. She sat in that tub all night, but the blood was stained into the flesh of her palms forever. She stared at the faucet for hours and hours, moving only to turn the 'H' knob every so often and warm the cooling water. When her alarm clock buzzed at 5:00 am, she knew she would have to get up, but she didn't want to. She sat and listened to its obnoxious shrieking for a good ten minutes before finally lifting herself from the water.

She left for work without eating breakfast. Her stomach felt heavy, like someone had poured sand into it. She caught a glimpse of herself in the rear view mirror on her way to the Asylum; her eyes were bloodshot and puffy. She avoided eye contact with Cash at the gates and didn't speak to the guards at the security entrance. She tried to walk quickly by The Joker's cell, hoping that he was still asleep, but he had been waiting for her. She tried to pretend she didn't see his lean body pressed against the glass as she passed, but he knocked loudly at her. She stopped and took a deep breath, closing her eyes and releasing it before looking over at him. She expected to see him smile triumphantly or make some kind of ridiculous remark, but was surprised when he only looked at her; emotionless at first, then he raised his brows in a sympathetic expression and laid his forehead against the glass. She blinked at him.

"Dr. Quinzel", the voice of Dr. Arkham irritated her already exhausted brain, "I'd like to see you in my office, please" he said shortly before turning and heading for the elevators.

She shut her eyes tight, "Yes, Sir."

Another knock; she opened them. Her patient's brows were now furrowed and he wriggled a beckoning finger in front of his face. She looked in the direction Dr. Arkham had just walked, but The Joker slammed the pad of a clenched fist into the glass to demand her attention. She jumped in place before walking hesitantly over to him and stood close to the glass as his tall form towered over her. She was close to tears and her throat burned from the hard work of the muscles which held back her sobs.

He looked down at her with brows still crinkled and stated lowly, "If he plans on separating us, I wanna know."

He was serious. Dr. Quinzel couldn't speak, if she did, it would release the flood gates and she would lose herself in tears.

He pressed an index finger hard against the glass, "I mean it."

She was taken aback. She knew he had become increasingly possessive of her in the last few months; that he referred to her as, '_his_ doctor', and refused to even speak with another physician, but she wasn't sure why he was suddenly so aggressive about this topic. Had he heard they planned to fire her? She felt like it was the least she deserved for the mistake she had made. Without responding to him she turned to walk down the hall.

"Hey", he called after her, "I'm going to cure you, Harley."

She stopped and shut her eyes, hot tears streaming down her face.

"See you at 1:00, Mr. Joker", she replied hoarsely and retreated swiftly away.

Dr. Quinzel stood at the Director of Rehabilitation's office door for a long while before knocking; she needed to compose herself. When he called her inside, she took a seat without making eye contact. He spun the news paper that was lying on his desk around to face her. There it was on the front page; the story of the mad man she had freed from Arkham Asylum only so he could brutally murder an entire family.

"I trust you have seen this?" he asked her sternly.

She hated him.

"Yes, Sir", she answered quietly.

"And did I not warn you, Doctor, about the risk you were taking with Mr. Steerman?"

She imagined his temple smashing against the corner of his oak office desk.

"Yes, Sir", she responded robotically.

"This is a harsh lesson to learn", he continued, "and you have learned it with people's lives. I hope you will consider the implications of your actions more thoroughly in the future."

His skull was cracking open as bits of red meat spewed bloodily from the wound and his eyes burst from their sockets.

"Yes, Sir."

He took up the paper and folded it in half before setting it on the corner of his desk, "That's all. You may go."

The young doctor slunk to her office and shut the door. She lay down on the therapy couch and sobbed deeply until her chest hurt. She wanted to die. As the day drug on she began to feel gradually more at peace. Treating patients always made her feel that way. It was the only real drive in her life, knowing that she could still somehow make a difference, even if one sometimes slipped through the cracks despite all her efforts. By the time one o'clock arrived, she was ready for him. He wasn't going to make her feel the way Jerry had that morning, she wouldn't allow it.

"Hello, Mr. Joker", she greeted him with a smile as he was escorted into her office.

He looked amused, "Well afternoon, Sunshine. Glad to see you aren't crying on the couch."

She cleared her throat, "I'm fine."

He took a seat on the furniture and watched the orderly close the door before looking at her with a grin.

"Well?", he asked with vulgar enthusiasm.

"Well, what?"

"Where's my kiss?"

She pretended to look through her notes.

"I assume our ol' pal, Dr. Arkham saw fit to keep us together. Smart decision on his part", he said in a more malicious tone. "I wasn't kidding", he continued when she didn't respond.

"About Dr. Arkham?" she asked, finally looking at him.

"About my kiss."

She ignored his remark, "I think today we should discuss-"

"-I _want_…my kiss", he interjected, "I want it, I want my kiss."

She sat up in her chair, "I'm afraid I can't do that, Mr. Joker. It would be unprofessional."

His smile faded and he glared at her between the narrowed slits of his eyelids while he tongued the inside of one of his scars.

"Ya know", he said casually after a moment, "I consider myself to be a man of my word, and I've kept all of my promises to you, Doc. I don't think I can trust a woman who isn't true to her word", he leaned forward, "It would be unprofessional."

She sighed and stared at him in thought; he was enjoying this. Maybe her mind was a bit hazy due to lack of sleep, but she was going to give him what he wanted. She knew him well enough to realize that he would perseverate on the topic until he got his way, anyhow, so she would get it out of the way so they could move on and that would be the end of it. She removed her black rectangular glasses, twisted in her office chair, and laid her notes and pen on the desk behind her before standing and slowly stepping over to him. He watched her with a keen grin on his face like a child who was hiding a frog in his pocket.

"One kiss, that's all I agreed to. Then we move on", she stated sternly.

"To bigger and better things, I hope", he raised his eyebrows quickly at her twice.

_'I cannot believe you about to do this, Harleen.'_

She leaned forward and planted a small peck on his lips. He tried to reach up with his cuffed hands and grab her face, but she had already pulled away. She was slightly disoriented by the impact his aroma had on her and it took her a moment to gather herself before she returned to her chair.

He looked more like she had just slapped him than kissed him, "You call that a kiss?"

"You never established the terms of the kiss, Mr. Joker. You only said 'I get a kiss', and a kiss you have received. Now, may we continue with therapy, please?"

He scoffed at her but she could tell he knew she was right. He slumped down into the couch and pouted while his doctor reached around to grab her notes from the desk. When she turned back around she noticed a change in his face and he perked up.

_'Aw hell, what now?'_

"You're forgetting about the other part of the deal, Doc. I get to poke at _you_ for a session, remember?"

"I don't remember it quite going like that. You said-"

"-I said you would have to tell me what you're hiding from behind _that_", he gestured over her head to the medical school diploma that hung on the wall, "and to find that out,_ I_ get to ask the questions."

She was regretting every detail about that day next to his cell.

"So", he continued, "Gotham Medical University, hm? You attend their sister school for undergrad?"

She nodded, half rolling her eyes.

"Expensive learnin'. Tell me, Doc, how exactly does a kid from the wrong side of the trailer park pay for, what, eight…ten years of school?"

"What makes you think I don't have a very wealthy and loving family who put me through school on a trust fund?" she retorted.

He blew through his lips, "Baby, please, you think I can't recognize another fucked up foster kid when I kiss one?"

Dr. Quinzel's heart stopped…The Joker had _slipped_. He had slipped and his doctor knew it instantly, and he knew that she knew. She tried to remain expressionless as if she hadn't just heard him allude to the notion that he had, in fact, been a "foster kid" himself.

"I had a generous donor", she explained.

He shifted nervously on the couch, "Your Uncle? Or is he your 'Uncle'?" he made quotation marks with his fingers.

"He isn't a Sugar Daddy, if that's what you're implying."

The Joker licked his lips and looked satisfied as he settled into the couch, comfortable that was taking the upper hand in the conversation again.

"So, he just spends thousands sending a pretty little blonde to school for a whole decade out of the kindness of his heart?" he asked slyly.

"No, he was in a financial position to offer me assistance, and I agreed to pay him back, with _money_, and so I do and that is that. Now, you have the information you were searching for, it's time we continued with your therapy."

She was uncomfortable with his questioning. She had never done this with a patient before. He shook his head at her in complacent protest. She was tired and growing impatient.

"What then?"

"I just wanna know how you got your scars, Harley Baby."

This statement put the power back in her hands, "Well, you've never told me a single truth regarding yours, what makes your think I'll talk about mine?"

His confident grin melted but returned quickly, "Ya know what, Cream Puff, you're more like me than I think you realize."

"_'Doctor'_, Mr. Joker, please call me 'Dr. Quinzel'; _that's_ my name," she demanded angrily.

"Let's not fight, Love, what will the children say?"

He was infuriating her.

"Are we done here? It sure feels like we're getting nowhere. I think it's time you left."

She got up to retrieve the orderly standing outside the office door, but The Joker impeded her path before she had time to realize he had moved. He looked down his nose as he stood closely over her.

"I'll leave when my session is over", he growled slowly.

She hesitated then returned to her seat as he sat back down across from her on the leather couch.

"I only wanna help you, Darlin'", he said, his smug grin returning.

"Help _me_? That seems like a reversal of roles", she figured she might as well play along.

"You're the one who needs it", he responded, "It's like I said, I'm going to cure you… _Harley_."


	11. Organic Chemistry

**Heeeeeerrrrrre's Pammy! **

**My take on how Harley meet her future B.F.F., played by the elegant and lovely Christina Hendricks. I have thought she would make a perfect Ivy since the moment I first saw her. Historically, Mother Earth has been represented by ancient sculptures and paintings of women with large curvaceous forms, and this is the deity which Ivy models herself after. Not the tiny green stick that played her part in the old movie from the 90's. **

**I'm not hatin' on Uma, though! She was awesome! This is just how I would cast it :)**

* * *

Monday came quickly and Harleen had finally been able to get some much needed rest on Sunday; napping most of the day after stocking her refrigerator and cabinets with sustenance. She awoke from her cat naps a couple of times thinking she heard something in the apartment, but drifted easily back into dreams. She even skipped waking up at her usual 3:00 am and felt at ease when her alarm finally sounded at 5:00 am. After a good stretch she stepped into the shower and winced as the hot water cascaded down her back; the claw marks were still fresh. As she submerged her head under the soothing heat, she let her mind drift back to Friday night. The Joker had bore his fingers deep into her back while she straddled him on the couch and dragged his short nails down her flesh from her shoulder blades to her waist as they reached the peak of ecstasy together. After her shower, she toweled off and wiped the steam from the mirror. She squinted at her reflection, just now noticing the yellow and purple bruise that encircled her left shoulder. She traced it slowly with her fingertips and recalled the sensation of his sharp teeth clenching tight to her. She stared at herself in the mirror; to look at her, one would think she had had the hell beat out of her. The place under her cheek was now turning the shade of an old banana to match the teeth marks. She turned around in the mirror and looked over her shoulder at the claw marks that ran down her back which would probably scar.

Harleen still didn't know what to do about The Joker. She couldn't bring herself to insist that he return to a place that only sought to destroy him from the inside out while they used her as the ignorant patsy. She refused to be an accomplice. If she was going to treat him, she would do so in order to help him, not condemn him. On the other hand, she knew that their highly unprofessional intimacy had to cease, but she obviously couldn't bring herself to do that either. What was far worse was the unsettling notion that she was actually beginning to crave him, though she wouldn't dare admit it to herself. It was by far the most complicated situation she had ever been in. She walked to her closet, tussling her wet hair with the towel and humming, feeling so at peace. She picked out her attire for the day and lathered her skin with lotion before brushing the tangles from her hair. The rose that had been left on the bed for her rested on the dresser in her room. It reminded her of two people; one being the obvious, the other being her new patient evaluation for the day:

Pamela Isley, AKA Poison Ivy, was a notorious eco-terrorist and master biochemist who had once been Head of the Botany Department at Gotham University. Harleen could remember hearing about her when she was an undergraduate student there. She was said to be a crazed extremist who fought for her cause unremittingly, the cause being to save what was left of the organic Earth, and regarded plant life over that of human begins. It was rumored that she became intimately involved with Al Gore after the release of his documentary _An Inconvenient_ _Truth_, but that was only speculation. She had finally gone too far when a toxic chemical compound, created by her, mysteriously crept into the morning coffee of an entire Board of Trustees which was overseeing the excavation of the former forest preserve to the West of the city. They planned to build an amusement park there, but apparently, Ms. Isley didn't find the news very humorous.

_'Could be fun', Harleen smirked to herself._

After dressing, she made a point to eat a decent breakfast for once. She had oatmeal with red berries and a glass of milk while she scanned the morning news channels for any sign of The Joker; all clear. As she climbed into her Prius she wondered if her new patient would approve of her efforts to be 'green'.

_'Maybe I should ride my bike.'_

Inside the Asylum, members of the GCPD were scrounging for any evidence they could recover from her former patient's cell. Dr. Quinzel secretly hoped they would wind up disappointed. She unlocked the door to her office and paused when she noticed the huge bouquet of red roses that rested upon her desk. She entered the room and quickly shut the door quietly behind her. Smiling brightly at her gift, she approached the desk and examined the card perched in its red petals:

_I'm an asshole,_

_ Simon_

Her smile faded.

"Yes, you are" she muttered out loud, tossing the card onto the desk.

Slightly disappointed, she gathered the flowers and placed them into an empty vase that she had stored on a filing cabinet in her office. She would put water in it later, but now she had to prepare for Ms. Isley who would be arriving shortly. Fifteen minutes later, and right on schedule, the sultry redhead entered Dr. Quinzel's office with the company of an Arkham guard.

"Hey Harl-uh, Doctor", Simon greeted in a shameful tone.

"Good morning, Mr. Knox", she answered professionally, "Ms. Isley, it's so nice to meet you. I'm Dr. Harleen Quinzel, and I'll be your psychiatrist while you're here at Arkham. Please, have a seat."

Simon stood nervously by the door as the evaluation began and Isley took a seat on the couch across from her new doctor. Her every move was impeccably graceful.

"Now Ms. Isely, I'd like to began with-"

"-Please, call me Ivy."

"I'm afraid I can't do that. Hospital policy strictly prohibits referring to patients by their Alias, unless of course, they have no other known identity."

"Like, The Joker?", Isley asked casually.

"Yes, that would be a specific case."

"Ugh, detestable life form", the redhead spouted in disgust.

Dr. Quinzel could sense that he had obviously done something to warrant a black card from this incarnation of Mother Earth herself, but that would have to be a later discussion. Now, they had to get through all of the red tape of hospital protocol. Isley's eyes suddenly locked onto an object behind her doctor's head and she shrieked, hiding her face. Dr. Quinzel glanced behind her at the roses that where sloppily arranged in their empty vase.

"Is something wrong, Ms. Isley?", she asked in a concerned tone.

"If you insist on butchering children, would you mind repressing the temptation to display them when I am present?", her patient responded in an agitated tone.

"I'm sorry, I thought you liked flowers", the doctor apologized as she quickly removed the roses from their position and placed them on the floor behind her desk.

Isley dropped her hand from her face and leaned forward, eyes narrowed, "How would you like me to send you a bouquet of infants' heads? Would you shove them into a glass jar and sprinkle water on them, hoping to preserve their lifeless form as they rot in your windowsill?"

"I apologize, Ms. Isley. Truly, I never thought of it in that way. I am very sorry if I have insulted you."

Her patient looked surprised. She sat back into the couch and a small grin spread across her rosy lips, "I like you, Dr. Quinzel. Tell me, what would you say is the measure of your carbon footprint, if you had to guess."

The young doctor made a thoughtful expression before answering, "Well, I'm not familiar with an actual score that can be attached to it, but I drive a Prius", she answered in a hopeful tone. "I'm also an avid recycler, and have attempted on multiple occasions to persuade the stakeholders of the hospital to switch to electronic documentation in order to preserve paper. I even designed an entire software program for them so they needn't concern themselves with the financial aspects of the investment, but they didn't bite."

It was all true; Harleen had become quite adept at computer programming toward the end of high school and throughout college. It wasn't something that had to be taught to her, she simply came to understand the process through hours of solitary tinkering. A boy in her freshman biology class had attempted to compensate her for the answers to the upcoming final exams. She knew she could have easily retrieved them and gotten away with it, but she had decided that if she was going to become a doctor, it would be because she had earned it.

Isley looked impressed, "Not exactly a crusader, but it's a start" she smiled. "Alright, Doctor, let's proceed with the mundane questioning. The sooner we get that out of the way, the sooner we can have some 'girl talk'."

An hour later, overall, the entire session had been a success. Pamela Isley had no issues talking about herself with her new doctor, which was a refreshing change to the dancing and balancing act which normally had to be performed around Arkham patients, especially The Joker.

"I'll see you tomorrow at the same time, Ms. Isley. Is there anything I can do to help you become more adjusted?", Dr. Quinzel asked as they exited the door of her office.

Her new patient gave her an admiring grin, "Is this a prison, Doctor, or a five star resort?" They shared a small laugh. "All I require is a few plants to keep me company…uh, bodies intact, please…fresh air, and sunlight."

"Well, I'm sure that can be arranged. Thank you for your cooperation, Ms. Isley. Good day."

Simon gave the doctor a sheepish grin as they turned to walk away. She could tell he was racked with guilt and decided to accept his apology by returning his grin with a small wave. As they headed toward the elevators, Dr. Quinzel cut across the hallway to Dr. Arkham's office.

She knocked and heard, "Yes?" on the other side.

"Dr. Arkham, I'd like to speak with you about my new patient, please."

There was a long pause before he answered, "Make it quick."

She turned the knob and entered without sitting down, "I'd like to request that Pamela Isley receive rec yard privileges, beginning today if possible."

Dr. Arkham was writing furiously on a tablet in front of him, referencing to a large text that was opened next to it.

"She has not met the required time for consideration" he said without looking at her.

"I know, Sir, but she is extremely compliant, and given the root of her psychosis…"

_'Haha! Root. Mr. J would have loved that one.'_

"…I feel that some time in nature would be beneficial to her recovery."

The Director of Rehabilitation let out a frustrated sigh and set his pen down forcefully, "Dr. Quinzel, I don't think that, given your recent history of patient-related episodes at this facility, you are in a position to be making any recommendations against standard protocol. She will wait the required month like every other patient here. That is all. Please leave."

He returned to his writing and she opened her mouth to speak but realized it would be a waste of breath. Seething, she left his office and closed the door. She stomped back to her office and flopped down in her chair, twisting it angrily back and forth as she dug her nails into the leather arm rests. Releasing a deep sigh, she laid her head back onto the chair and closed her eyes. She wondered where The Joker must be at that moment, what he must be doing. She wouldn't be having a session with him today and the uncertainty of when she would see him again bothered her somewhat. His safety was a concern, and if The Batman found him, his entire progress could be compromised. She reached across her chest with her right arm and pressed her thumb into the bruise on her shoulder. It stabbed at the nerves underneath as she bit her bottom lip and moaned quietly.

"Harleen?" a male voice startled her and she was suddenly embarrassed, "Your shoulder ok?", Simon asked.

She tried to smile casually, "Yep. What's up?"

"I wanted to come and see if…well, if we're ok. Ya know, after the way I acted" he said nervously.

She nodded at him, "Yes, Simon. We're ok. I can understand your frustration, really, and thank you for the flowers, they're lovely."

"_Some_ don't seem to think so."

She laughed, "Yeah, it's probably a good thing she didn't know they were from you."

"I don't know how you do it, Harleen. These wack-o's would drive me completely insane, but you work so well with them. It was amazing watching you with that Plant Lady."

"Ms. Isely."

"Yeah, you're really an amazing woman."

He stepped closer to her and tried to take her hand, but she pulled it away. She knew he was just trying to be romantic, but it was beginning to make her skin crawl. Human attraction was chemical in her mind, and unfortunately for poor Simon, the chemistry just wasn't there for her.

"This isn't acceptable in a professional setting", she insisted quietly.

"Then let me take you out somewhere. Anywhere, you pick, I don't care how expensive. Not as a couple or anything, just as…friends."

She was trying not to be rude, "I don't date my friends, Simon."

"That's because you don't have any" he retorted shortly.

She dropped her jaw at him.

"No, look, I'm sorry I didn't mean that. It's just-"

"-Dr. Quinzel?"

_'Oh, thank god.'_

"Your next patient is ready", said the new orderly at the door.

_'Man, they turn them over quick in this place.' _

She realized she didn't exactly know his name, "Ok, thank you, um, I'm sorry…"

"Miller, Ma'am. Jake Miller."

"Thank you, Mr. Miller."

_'In more ways than one.'_

Simon shot her an annoyed expression before walking out the door.

_'Geeze, will that man ever let it rest?'_

Harleen turned the radio off and rolled the windows down on the way home from work. It had been a long day, and she was feeling particularly…restless. It also irritated her to no end that Simon was persisting even though she had strictly established a line; a line that he was starting to cross. She pulled into her parking spot and started to grab her stack of files, but paused and stared down at them. She had been working hard over the last few months and deserved a rest. Those files could just wait until tomorrow. She entered her quiet empty apartment and stood for a moment, listening; alone. She dropped her purse on the floor and headed back toward the bedroom where she discovered two shiny black shoes crossed one over the other at the foot of her bed.

**['Your Heart is as Black as Night' by Melody Gardot]**

"Evening", greeted The Joker with a smirk.

He was propped up against the headboard of the bed, arms crossed in his chest, fully dressed in his suit attire except for his coat which lay on the chair in the corner. His face had been covered in fresh paint and she cringed at the thought of it smudging on her white sheets. She was glad to see that he was safe, but the fact that she was actually _happy_ to see him irritated her to the core. Tonight would be the night that she established some ground rules. Starting with;

"No shoes on the bed!" she scolded and pushed his legs toward the edge near her.

He swung them around and sat on the side of the mattress, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her toward him. She resisted for a moment, but found herself relaxing into his boyish grin as he slowly untucked her blouse and began softly kissing her stomach. She held a sharp intake of breathe and felt the goosebumps spread. His lust seemed insatiable, but as much as she hated herself for it, she could feel the uncontrollable excitement rise beneath her skin.

"Do you just come over at night to get into my pants?" she asked playfully.

"I don't hear you protesting" he remarked between kisses, "I work all day, too, ya know."

"Yeah, about that, where do you go all day when you aren't here?"

"Does it matter?"

He was starting to unbutton her pants. She reached down to stop him but he snatched her wrist, and the irritating arousal shot down her spine.

"And how do you keep getting in here when my apartment is locked?"

He finally stopped kissing her and leaned back, resting on his elbows "A true magician never reveals his secrets, M'dear. So, do you wanna keep chit chatting or can I make you scream my name now?"

She took a step backwards, "Not with all that stuff on your face."

He reached for her, growling.

"No! It's going to stain the sheets!"

He pulled her down on top of him.

"No, no, wait! Go wash your face!"

He rolled over on top of her, kissing her neck and making her giggle.

"Stop! It's not funny!"

She heard him laugh quietly in her ear.

"I'm serious, damnit!"

She continued struggling until he finally kissed her lips, taking her breath away and making her succumb to his every wish. The attraction was agonizingly out of her control and she knew she was in trouble.

The chemistry was definitely there.


	12. Mutilation is the Sincerest Form

_Dr. Quinzel sipped her tea slowly as she scanned through the open file on her desk. The Joker would be escorted to her office soon for their fourth session together and it had been a rough few days for both of them. He had not been adjusting well to the scheduled routine of the Asylum and looked haggard and worn most of the time. He was particularly short tempered in the morning since his previous lifestyle had his internal clock completely reversed; sleeping all day and doing god knows what all over Gotham at night. She reworked her patient times so that he could come in for his sessions in the afternoon instead of after breakfast, hoping it would make a difference._

_She could faintly hear the sound of the elevator bell ding as it reached the top floor, and the sound of dragging chains entered the hallway. She secretly wished they would quit cuffing his ankles; he looked so pathetic when he walked. The scraping noise continued to increase in volume as it approached the doorway. Dr. Quinzel looked up and smiled pleasantly as her patient was escorted into the room._

_"Mornin', Ma'am", Mr. Cash greeted her._

_"Good morning, Mr. Cash", she responded, surprised to see him since he normally worked the gates leading into the Asylum grounds. "Did they move you?"_

_"Just for today. Got a few of the boys out sick, somethin's goin' around."_

_She glanced at her patient; he had heavy dark circles under his eyes and looked extremely agitated._

_"Are you feeling sick today, Mr. Joker?" she enquired._

_He didn't answer or make eye contact._

_"This one's cranky today" Cash mentioned._

_"Please, take a seat" she gestured toward the brown leather therapy couch._

_Cash relinquished his hold on The Joker's arm and he shuffled over, flopping onto his back. He lay there staring angrily at the ceiling while his doctor stood from her desk and rolled her leather chair around to sit close to the couch. This was a risk she took with each of her patients and she was the only physician at the Asylum brave enough, or crazy enough, to do it. She felt that it helped to relax the atmosphere and make it more personable than sitting behind her large oak desk, neglecting eye contact to scribble notes. As she took a seat, her patient rolled onto his side facing away from her and she exchanged a quick glance with Cash._

_"Mr. Joker?"_

_"Do you make all your patients shit in public, Doc, or am I a special case?" he asked with his voice muffled against the back of the furniture._

_His doctor bit her bottom lip, "Excuse me?"_

_The Joker lifted his cuffed wrists and pointed over his head at Cash, "Kinda hard to bare your soul with an audience."_

_"This is only temporary, Mr. Joker", she assured him, "Hospital protocol. We'll have our sessions alone in another week."_

_No response._

_"Mr. Cash, would you mind waiting in the hall, please?" she asked softly, but he hesitated, "It's fine, I'll leave the door open."_

_He made a nervous glance at the man in the orange coveralls before reluctantly obliging. The Joker lifted his head and watched him exit the room before rolling slowly onto his back. _

_"Better?" his doctor asked with a grin._

_He only stared at her, but she could tell he looked less perturbed. "How are you adjusting to the schedule?"_

_"I'm not a fan of monotony", he finally responded, staring back up at the ceiling, "Our daily game of '20 Questions' is getting pretty old, too. Forever is going to feel like an awfully long time in this fucking place, I'll tell you that."_

_"Who said you were going to be here forever?" she asked and his head snapped toward her, "People do get discharged from here, you witnessed it yourself the other day, remember?"_

_He turned his face away from her again, "Nice try, Gorgeous, but you're not gonna to fix me. I ain't broken", he insisted and rolled to facing the back of the couch once again._

_She could feel herself blush slightly at his compliment._

_"Then what would you call yourself?" she asked._

_He paused before responding, "A revolutionary."_

_"A bit radical for some, I guess. Or maybe just ahead of your time?"_

_He paused again, "You could say that." _

_After a moment he made a 180 degree roll and lay facing her, looking exhausted, "So how exactly does a guy like me, given the things I've done, escape the justice system just because a pretty shrink says I'm cured?"_

_Her cheeks reddened again and she cleared her throat._

_"It doesn't exactly work that way. You will have to serve your sentenced amount of time, in the meantime, receiving treatment here. Based upon your progress and recovery, once your time has been served, you will qualify for an auditing of your case followed by a hearing. Your treating psychiatrist will stand to speak on your behalf and you will be given the opportunity to speak for yourself. If all goes well, you will be discharged to a half-way home assigned by the state and go from there."_

_He propped his head onto his hand with a smirk, elbow resting in the couch._

_"My 'treating psychiatrist' being…you", he implied._

_"For the foreseeable future, yes."_

_The Joker stretched an amused looking grin across his face and lowered his voice into a growl that made Dr. Quinzel's spine tingle, "In that case, Doc, I hope I'm here for a **very**_ l_ong time."_

Was that it? Was that where it had all began? Harleen tried to decide to herself as she stared at the dark ceiling. The Joker lay on his stomach next to her, snoring quietly. Or maybe it was even sooner than that? Maybe she was locked into his dark world the instant she made that deal with him outside his cell; like dealing with the Devil. Maybe it was even the very moment she introduced herself to him in the medical wing. She hadn't realized it then, but in retrospect, her life had been instantly and irreversibly changed forever. He had pulled her in, and now, here she was wondering _who_ she was and what had happened to her.

_He_ had happened to her.

She rolled onto her side and watched him breathing, a triad of colors smeared on his face.

_'Damnit, that shit was all over the sheets now.' _

She would never be able to wash it out, but she still had to admit that it had been well worth it. Normally, Harleen would have slipped right off into a satisfied sleep afterwards, but her mind had started to race and she lay for hours thinking while her spent lover twitched next to her in his sleep. Six months ago, she was Dr. Harleen Quinzel: accomplished psychiatric physician who specialized in extreme criminal cases, top of her graduating class in both undergraduate and medical school, and devoted entirely to the progress of her patients. She was going to heal the world. Now, she was a woman who slept with her fugitive patient and had little to no control over herself or wherever this whole thing was headed. It made her shudder to think where it could go.

His 'Chaotic Clown Princess of Anarchy' he had called her…his harlequin…his…

"Harley Quinn", she whispered into the dark silent room.

The name gave her chills.

The Joker chuckled softly in his sleep. She grinned and reached out a hand to brush the hair from his face, but the instant her skin touched his, he snatched her wrist faster than she had time to think. Suddenly she was on her back with him over her, the fingers of his other hand wrapped snuggly around her neck and she began to panic when she realized she couldn't draw a breath. His eyes glared down at her for a moment, then his dark expression relaxed and he looked surprised to see her laying there under him, naked and terrified. He quickly released his grip on her throat and pulled his hand away, holding it in the air as though he were surrendering. They lay that way, staring at each other for a long time. Finally, he brought his hand back down softly, stroking her hair as he settled down on top of her and kissed her forehead.

"Steep learning curve being with me, huh Baby?"

She was still in shock and couldn't speak, but his touch was comforting. It made her feel as though, out of all the people in the world, she was the only one he never meant to hurt. The trust was mutual between them and the moment reaffirmed the internal notion that she could never send him back to the Asylum; he would rot there.

"You ok?" he asked softly.

She took a deep breath and smiled at him, "Yeah, just startled is all."

"I told you, ya can't sneak up on me."

"I didn't know I was sneaking", she said chuckling.

"If I don't know you're there, it's sneaking" he replied, lifting a serious eyebrow to her.

She nodded and he looked over at the clock, "I gotta head out", he said, rolling off of her.

"Where are you going?"

_'And why do I care?'_

"Well, well! Look who wants me to stay", he smirked as he pulled on his green boxers and searched the dark floor for the rest of his clothes, "Gotta go to work, Sugar."

"You slept for like three hours!"

"Yeah, ya see how lazy you're making me?" he said as he hopped on one foot and slipped on his slacks.

She pouted silently under the covers while she watched him dress. Finally, he pulled his suit coat over his arms and donned the purple leather gloves, catching her disapproving gaze in the dark.

"Don't worry", he reassured her with a grin, "I'll be back."

"For sex?" she asked in an annoyed tone.

_'Again, why do I care? What is wrong with me?'_

The Joker paused with his back to her and let out a sigh before stating sternly, "Harley, if sex was all I wanted I would have _taken_ it a long time ago, and _you_ would have been the one they found in my cell." He turned to glare at her, clearly insulted, and she suddenly felt guilty, "Think before you speak", he insisted as he exited her room.

She sat there for a few seconds before jumping up after him, "Mr. J!"

He was unlocking the front door in the dark living room and stopped to turn and face her. She switched on the light and walked over to him, "I didn't mean…just check in with me and let me know you're alright once in a while, okay?"

She suddenly realized there was something _very_ wrong with this picture.

He gave her a sideways grin and traced her body with his eyes, "You're naked."

She smiled modestly and tried to cross her arms over her breasts, but he grabbed her wrists and pulled her into him, blowing a raspberry into her neck, "Quit distracting me you minx!"

She giggled and rubbed her chin against her shoulder. He let her go and turned back to the door, cracking it slightly and investigating the parking lot before opening it to leave."Have fun with the coo-coo's tomorrow", he winked at her as he closed the door.

After a second it opened back up and he stuck his head in, "Oh, and uh, that makeup looks good on you", he smiled and disappeared.

Harleen rolled her eyes back and dropped her face into her hands, shaking her head back and forth, "What are you doing, Harley?" Her eyes shot open and she lifted her head, "Harleen!" she quickly corrected, "Harleen, Harleen, Harleen", she whispered in urgent confirmation of her _real_ name.

She checked the clock; it was only 11:45 pm. The night was still young and she knew she wouldn't be able to sleep if she laid back down now. Shaking her head as if trying to lift a thick haze, she returned to her room and redressed. Working on patient files would make her feel more like _herself_ and distract her from all of this…disorientation. After retrieving her files from the car Harleen made a cup of tea and snuggled onto the couch, turning the television to the GCNN so she could passively keep an eye on things. She justified it by telling herself that, if The Joker were caught and returned to Arkham, she could begin on her re-evaluation notes to save time.

Pamela Isley's case was a particularly interesting one she decided as she sipped her hot tea and lounged on the furniture. Apparently, the toxin she had developed had been discovered in her blood during her medical examination. Its concentration was at a high enough level to kill ten men, yet she seemed to be completely unaffected by it. Harleen speculated that the only answer was a repeated administration of the drug in non-lethal doses over the course of many years. But why? That would be an interesting conversation to initiate in their session tomorrow, and she was sure that Ms. Isley would easily oblige.

She was about to take another sip of tea when her phone rang loudly in her purse, making her jump and spill hot liquid down her blouse.

"Fuck!"

She set the cup on the floor and brushed at the brown spot on her shirt while she walked to the place where her bag was sitting. Digging the singing phone out, she rolled her eyes at the screen; 'Simon'. She hesitated for another two rings before finally answering.

"Quinzel."

"Harleen! Are you alright?", his voice sounded urgent.

"I'm peachy, why?" she answered, slightly confused and mostly annoyed.

"The Joker has been spotted in your neighborhood. They said he was leaving the direction of _your _complex. You shouldn't be there alone, I'm coming over."

The volume had been muted on her television, but when she looked at the screen, there it was:

_Joker Sighting_

With a map circled in her neighborhood.

_'Sighting? What is he, Bigfoot?'_

She started to protest but could already hear the sound of a moving car in the background. Having him there was the last thing she wanted. Besides, what if The Joker came back?

"Simon, everything is fine, I promise. I really don't need anyone-"

"-I'm already on my way over."

He was definitely crossing the line. This felt like a sorry excuse to come harass her at her home in the middle of the night. What exactly did he expect? A nice little'reward' for his valiant efforts?

"Please, don't", she insisted in a stern tone, "I can take care of myself."

"You don't always have to be so brave, Harleen, let someone else take care of you for once in your life."

_'What the fuck does he know about my life? Nothing.'_

He continued, "If that Freak lays a hand on you-"

"-He wouldn't hurt me!" she yelled into the phone, realizing she might have said too much.

"He's _obsessed_ with you!" he yelled even louder.

She paused.

"Ok, look, I need to show you something. I'm almost there will you at least let me in for a second?", he pleaded.

She was aggravated with him, but decided she could get rid of him faster if she just did what he said, "Ok, but just for a minute or two. I want to go back to bed", she stretched the truth slightly.

Remembering what The Joker had said as he left, she hurried to her bathroom and turned on the light. Her face was smudged here and there with red, white, and black paint. She circled her face with soap and tried to wash away the evidence quickly. Minutes later there was a knock at the door. When Harleen opened it, a phone was pushed into her vision with an image in the screen. She squinted at it and took the phone in her hands.

"No one was supposed to take pictures, but I had to show you this. It's _his_ cell, Harleen, on the floor under the bed" Simon explained as he stepped inside and shut the door, locking it.

She sat on the couch, still looking at the image. Across the concrete floor in large letters, the word **_'HARLEY'_** had been finger painted in dark red.

"It's blood," he continued as he took a seat next to her, "and not Terry's."

Harleen's gaze shot up to meet his, "Whose then?"

He lifted his eyebrows to her and gave her a knowing stare, "I told you, he's obsessed. This is something a crazy person would do, and with his own blood! He clearly sliced himself, what the hell do you think he would do to you?"

_'The gash in his hip.'_

She felt strange, but it wasn't the normal human reaction to such an act of self mutilation, it was something different. An alien emotion that was almost disconnected completely from her in that moment, as if someone else was feeling it _through_ her empathically. Was it..._flattery_? Looking back down at the image, she stroked her thumb along the edge of the phone, and worked hard to repress a smile. It was…_beautiful._

Returning the phone to Simon, she blinked and shook her head, "Well, it says 'Harley' not 'Harleen', doesn't it? Maybe he just really likes motorcycles."

"This is no time to be making jokes, Harleen."

She snickered involuntarily, "I know, I'm just tired. Look, I'll be fine, okay? If he were going to hurt me he would have done it by now."

She shook her head; it felt strange. She put her elbows in her knees and cupped her eyes.

"I think I should stay. I'll sleep on the couch", he said softly.

She snapped her head towards him with fury, "_Now_ who's acting obsessed?"

He glared at her angrily, "I just wanna make sure you're safe."

Standing from the couch, she heading toward the door and opened it, "I'm no princess."

Simon scoffed and stormed from her apartment. She slammed the door behind him, locking it tight before marching to her bedroom with clenched fists.

_'Not yours anyway.'_


	13. Homecoming

**New Characters:**

**Edward Nigma: Jude Law**

**Batman: Christian Bale**

**Jim Gordon: Gary Oldman**

**(Obviously)**

* * *

_His large hand swung across her face again, stinging the flesh and taking her breath away. She slumped against the wall he had shoved her into when she walked through the front door as the other hand flung swiftly into her other cheek. She felt like her jaw would break, but she refused to scream. She wouldn't allow him the satisfaction. It would all be over soon and she could go to bed._

"_You gonna tell me the truth now, you little slut?" he sputtered drunkenly in her face as he yanked her hair and forced her to face him. It felt like he would rip her scalp right off._

"_I s-swear", was all she could gasp as she clung to his fist with both hands, trying to alleviate the tearing sensation in her crown._

_He laughed in her face and she could smell the rancid whiskey and rotting teeth in his open mouth, "You hear that, Baby, she been down at that lie-berry again. She thinks she's smart or somethin'. You think you're smart or somethin', girl?"_

"_N-n-no, Sir", Harleen stammered._

"_No is right you dumb bitch!", he yelled, and flung her onto the floor._

_She glanced up at her mother who was lazily resting on the couch, smoking a cigarette in one hand, beer in the other._

_Her father snapped his sausage-sized fingers in her face, "Don't look at her, Dummy, I'm the one askin' you the questions. Now, you gonna tell me who you was out with tonight, or I gotta go lookin' for the Son-of-a-Bitch?"_

_Harleen had truthfully been at the library, but so had her new boyfriend, Danny. She'd take a thousand hits if it meant it would protect him. _

_He reached down and grabbed a handful of her shirt, yanking her face close to his "You just listen to me, girly. If that little fucker knocks you up, I'll go in there and cut it out my damn self". _

_He shoved a finger into her abdomen before pushing her back to the floor, making her hit her head. He stepped over her in his steel-toed work boots while she lay there, grateful he had not decided to send the tips of them crashing into her ribs again, and waiting for the appropriate time to retreat to her room and lock the door._

"_Where the fuck's my goddamn dinner, Marie?", he yelled from the kitchen._

"_It's on the stove."_

"_I had this horse shit last night!"_

_They began to argue and Harleen saw the moment as an opportunity to crawl down the hall. Just as she was about to cross the threshold of safety she heard her mother, "Well, she was suppose to go grocery shoppin' tonight."_

_The heavy boots came stomping down the hall behind her as she scrambled desperately to crawl into the room, but he beat her to it, yanking her up by her hair again._

"Don't fucking touch me!", Harleen screamed, sitting up in bed.

She was covered in a cold sweat and trembling furiously. She put her forehead in her hands and took deep breathes to calm herself, glancing at the clock to her left that read; 3:03 am. After her heart beat fell into a normal rhythm, she got up and walked to the bathroom sink to splash water on her face. Shuffling back to the bed, she tried to lie down, but the middle of it was completely soaked where she had been laying. Sighing, she grabbed the dry pillow from the other side and stripped the top cover to carry with her to the living room.

Plopping down on the cushions, she pulled the covers around her and switched the television on with the remote. The GCNN had become her favorite channel over the last two weeks. She hadn't seen The Joker since the night Simon showed her the artwork he had left her in his cell. He would leave her things in the apartment, so she knew he must be alive, but each day that he neglected to actually show up angered her. Last Wednesday she came home to find a pair of purple lacy underwear lying on her bed. Last Friday she discovered a black rectangular box on her kitchen table. The contents had been a gold necklace with a diamond encrusted 'H' which looked very expensive and she had hoped no one had to die for this lavish gift. This past Monday, he left her a basket wrapped in purple and green ribbon filled with a bottle of Cristal Champagne; handcuffs; two containers of grease paint in the colors black and white; red lipstick; a small bottle labeled 'DON'T drink me!'; a switchblade; and a loaded handgun.

She sat on the couch, twisting the diamond 'H' hanging from her neck angrily between her fingers as she watched the screen of the T.V. Harleen had not felt at all like herself lately. She found herself letting her mind drift as her patients spoke during sessions, which infuriated her. She would have to spend extra time writing her case notes since she would frequently catch herself fantasizing about The Joker and his lean muscular build. She would even stop by his old cell, which was now empty, on her way in and out of the Asylum. She had always spent more time on his case notes and progress reports than any of her other patients, but she told herself that it was because he was by far her most extreme case. Lately, however, she was questioning her rationale. Each one of these details incensed her more than the next, but she couldn't seem to get a grip on herself. She worried about him constantly, but swore she would kill him the next time he bothered to grace her with his presence.

She sat in an Indian-style position, bouncing her left knee spastically, and cursing Vicki Vale silently when suddenly his image appeared in the upper right hand corner of the screen. Harleen jumped in her seat and tried to snatch the remote from the arm of the couch, knocking it off into the floor. She scrambled quickly to retrieve it and pressed the 'volume up' button repeatedly.

"Still no sign of the escaped prisoner known as The Joker since his last sighting two weeks ago", Ms. Vale stated, "Police are beginning to speculate that he may have actually left Gotham City, but a word of caution still remains until more information on his whereabouts can be provided. In other news-"

"Ugh!" Harleen shouted as she flung herself onto her side and buried her face in her pillow. She was definitely going to kill him. How dare he just disappear without a word! Didn't he realize that, as his doctor, his well being was always at the forefront of her mind?

"-sending its victims into a fit of uncontrollable laughter and leaving them with an eerie smile after they finally die from heart failure", Vale continued in the background. Harleen looked up at the screen, "Investigators are currently trying to determine if the strange new toxin is a form of biochemical warfare or if there is another perpetrator responsible."

What an idiot. Wasn't it obvious?

It was ingenious, really, creating his own toxin. She hadn't even realized he had an aptitude for chemistry, much like her other patient, Ms. Isley. Then again, maybe he was only the mind and money behind the product, and not the creator himself. She then thought about another one of her patients, former psychiatric physician, Dr. Jonathan Crane. He, too, had developed his own psychotropic drug that he used on his victims. It almost seemed that, if you were going to be a criminal mastermind in this city, Chemistry was a prerequisite study.

Harleen let out a frustrated sigh and turned off the television. Sleep still seemed out of reach, but she was willing to give it a try. She lay across the couch and pulled the covers to her chin, trying to keep her lids shut, but they weren't heavy enough. After tossing and turning for another hour and a half she heard her alarm sound from the other room. It was going to be another long day, she could tell.

On the way to the Asylum that morning, the chill in the air was exaggerated by the light drizzle that fell from the darkened sky. It was gloomy, much like her mood, she thought. Her session with Ms. Isley went very well, however, and lifted her spirits slightly. She was pleasant, charismatic, and they often found topics to discuss and laugh about even if they weren't of particular use to rehabilitation.

"I apologize again that you are unable to spend time in the recreation yard just yet, Ms. Isley" Dr. Quinzel said to her as the orderly ushered her from the office.

"I'm a patient woman, it can wait. I appreciate your efforts in that matter, however, as well as the beautiful plants you brought for me."

Her doctor had ventured to the local organic greenhouse and purchased a few potted plants to keep her company.

"I'm glad you like them. See you tomorrow, Ms. Isley" she responded with a smile.

She waited for them to make it halfway down the hallway before returning quickly to her desk and checking the GCNN application on her smart phone; nothing. She suddenly realized that she had forgotten to inform Ms. Isley of the change to their therapy schedule. Dr. Arkham had insisted that he sit in on a few of the sessions with Victor Zsasz, and as a result, her entire schedule had to be reworked.

It was irritating, to say the least.

Mr. Nigma would be arriving shortly, but checking her watch, she decided she would have time to run down quickly and talk to Ms. Isley for a moment. To save time she took the stairs down to the main hall where she could see her next patient already being escorted by the orderly toward the elevators.

She walked up behind him, "I'll be right with you, Mr. Nigma. I just have to speak with a patient for a second."

The orderly stopped so he could turn around and face her, "Not to worry, Doctor. I have no other engagements", he replied with a smile. His eyes focused on something behind her for a second, then back at her, "I have a riddle for you, Doctor."

She grinned. This was his favorite game, "And I will be happy to hear it in my office in just a moment."

She tried to walk past him, but he continued, "What's black, white, and red all over."

He was getting rusty. She had heard that one already in elementary school, "A zebra with a sunburn, Mr. Nigma", she replied smugly.

He smirked and shook his head before refocusing his gaze behind her and lifting his chin in that direction. Dr. Quinzel turned around and gasped loudly, bringing her hand to her mouth. There, being escorted aggressively through the security doors, was her missing patient. His hands were bound behind him and The Batman had a strong hold on his arm, dragging him forward.

Nigma hadn't been exaggerating; he was a bloody mess. His left eye was swollen shut and dried blood from his nose was mixed into the red paint on his lips. It had poured down his chin onto his suit which had other crimson smudges here and there, but it was hard to tell if the stains were his. Another bloody streak ran down the side of his head into his right ear from a cut somewhere on his head.

He was walking, but only just. He staggered and tripped alongside his dark captor, grinning all the way. His doctor rushed forward and he caught sight of her as she approached, "Home sweet home, Doc! D'you miss me?"

She wanted to hit him but he already looked so pathetic. Two orderlies stepped in front of her with a white straight jacket and quickly pushed his arms inside. They began dragging him off to the medical wing, and he smiled at her as they passed. She thought she saw him try to wink with is open eye, but it was impossible to tell since the other one was tightly shut. She looked toward the security doors where Dr. Arkham was speaking with Commissioner Gordon who had just pulled up outside as The Joker was being drug in. She glared angrily at the ridiculous looking vigilante standing with them who had beat her patient to a pulp.

"Excuse me", she spouted at him as she stomped in his direction. He saw her coming and turned to exit the doors but she increased her speed to a trot and caught up to him, "Hey! Hey! I'm talking to you, Bats! What gives you the right run around in your tights beating up my patients?"

He turned and stared at her. She squared off with him and folded her arms in her chest, "I'm sure there must be some law against unnecessary force, and I know for a fact there is one against vigilante citizens taking the law into their own hands."

"I asked him to help, Doctor" the soft voice of the Commissioner addressed her, "And yes, I am aware of the law that prohibits it, but this dangerous man has been eluding us for some time. We had to make a decision in the best interest of the citizens of Gotham."

"And what about the best interest of a psychiatric patient who gets the hell beat out of him by a mad man in a Halloween costume?" she gestured toward The Batman, but he had vanished.

"I do apologize for that, Doctor, but please understand that no action was taken that was not completely necessary."

His eyes were very kind and his words were sincere. She felt herself becoming calmer as he spoke to her, "I'm also glad to see that you were unharmed while he was missing. It was a concern of ours at the GCPD which is why we offered you another location, but we can't force someone to go into hiding. During our investigation here it became clear that The Joker has taken a very strong interest in you, and I urge you to exercise extreme caution if you plan to continue as his doctor."

He was a nice man and Dr. Quinzel suddenly felt guilty, "It's very kind of you to be concerned, Sir. I do plan to continue treating him, but I promise to take your warning into consideration. Now, if you will excuse me, I'd like to go sit in on the medical examination."Gordon nodded and she gave him a small grin before walking briskly toward the medical wing.

She could hear The Joker's voice echoing down the hallway as she approached the room where they had taken him, "Don't be nervous, Sweets, I don't bite _that_ hard. Who knows, you might like it."

She turned the corner into the doorway where she found him sitting up in a hospital bed, clacking his teeth in the direction of an extremely disturbed looking nurse holding a wet towel. She smacked his arm, "Stop that!", and he chuckled childishly.

It was painfully obvious how much the nurse did not want to be there. The doctor stretched out her hand, "I'll take that, Trudy. You can leave us, I'll get him cleaned up for you."

The nurse relinquished the wet towel without hesitation and shuffled quickly out of the room. Dr. Quinzel turned back to glare at her pathetic looking patient who grinned and looked back at her with his one good eye.

"Where-have-you-been?" she scolded, whacking him in the chest with the towel with each word.

He flinched in his straight jacket and snickered, "What? I kept in touch", his eye caught sight of the jewelry hanging from her neck, "Well, would you look at that? You _have_ been thinking of me."

She tucked the necklace into her shirt and placed a hand behind his head, bringing the wet cloth to his cheek with the other, "Of course I have I'm your doctor."

He lifted the eyebrow over the good eye, "Oh, so we're gonna keep playing _that_ game, huh? Alright, Doc."She started to speak but he interjected, "No, it's fine. I like role playing, it keeps things…_exciting_."

He tried winking at her again, but it just looked silly. She giggled slightly and continued cleaning his face as he traced her body with his eyes, "At least now when I undress you in my mind, I have something to go off of."

She smacked him again, "Shhh! Keep your voice down!", she whispered urgently, looking toward the open door.

He feigned a hurt expression, "Aw, Pumpkin Pie, you're not ashamed of me are you?"

"I could lose my license. And no, I'm not ashamed of you, I'm mad at you."

"You get the other gifts?" he asked looking down at her pants.

"Yes, but I would rather you had checked in with me and let me know you were alright", she answered without looking at him. It was difficult to admit something like that out loud.

They were silent as she finished cleaning the paint and caked blood from his face, neck, and ears. He looked tired and worn underneath, like he hadn't slept since he left her apartment. She threw the dirty cloth in the trash and washed her hands.

Turning back to him, she caught his one-eyed gaze and he gave her a side-ways grin.

"What?", she asked.

"You. Still trying to follow the rules even though you screwed the referee."

"Shhhhhh!" she stepped over toward him with her finger to her lips.

"When are you just gonna let it go, Babe? Leave the flock and come play with the wolves for a while, I promise you won't ever wanna go back."

She pursed her lips and shook her head at him.

He struggled in his jacket, "Untie me."

"I'm not allowed to do that."

He chuckled at her and shook his head, "Kiss me, then."

She hesitated, knowing full well that she desperately wanted to. She looked toward the open door and back at him.

_What is wrong with me?_

"Harley, come on", he pleaded in a whisper.

She walked over to the door, pulling it shut, and he smiled keenly at her.

"Shut up", she grinned.

He tried to appear innocent, "I didn't say a word."

She settled onto the edge of the bed and put a hand on his newly washed cheek. Leaning forward slowly, she barely grazed his lips with hers as he tried to extend his neck and reach for her. Finally, she parted them and met his bottom lip, making him sigh deeply. The kiss became deeper as they wound their tongues together and he sat up in the bed to bring his body closer to hers. A knock at the door startled them and he flopped down onto his back.

"Dr. Quinzel?" Trudy had returned to continue the examination.

She quickly walked to the door and opened it, trying to behave as though she had not just been kissing her patient, "Sorry, Trudy. Mr. Joker was sharing some confidential patient information with me. I couldn't risk it being overheard."

Trudy bought it, "No problem."

The doctor felt disoriented and her conscience was in turmoil over what she had just done, but she tried to shake it off as she began to exit the room.

"Uh, Doctor!" Trudy shouted after her.

She poked her head back into the room, "Yes?"

Trudy looked nervously at The Joker who was smiling fiendishly back at her, "Do you mind, uh, staying?"

Dr. Quinzel stepped back into the room, "Sure, Trudy."

The nurse turned her back to gather supplies while The Joker and his doctor shared a glance. He looked her up and down and lifted an eyebrow with a smug grin; he was undressing her, and she knew it.

"Stop", she mouthed at him silently.

He laughed, making poor Trudy jump, "So, do I get a lollipop this time?" he asked her.


	14. Nuisance

The Joker bounced his right leg as he lounged into the back cushion of the leather therapy couch, arms bound tightly under his straight jacket. He could open his eye now, though a black and blue patch still encircled it, and he stared at his doctor with an amused grin. She was seated on the edge of her office desk, flipping through her notes, and shifting nervously.

"I only get an hour and half, you know?" he finally said casually.

She glanced up at him and sighed, "Yeah, I know…I just…"

His dark eyes penetrated her. Oh, how she wanted to touch him.

"Trying to find the right topic?" he finished for her. It was true that she didn't exactly know how to begin their first session since their dynamic had been so dramatically altered. She also continued to be torn over the fact that she was aware of Dr. Arkham's true motive, and wanted badly to inform her patient.

Or was is to warn him?

"Here, I'll start us out", he continued, "Did the police ever tell you about the little gift I left for you under my bed the night I escaped?"

"I was informed of it, yes."

There was a silent pause between them before he lifted his eyebrows, "And?"

"Well, I don't…uh…thank you?" she responded, unsure of exactly what to say. "Although, I wish you wouldn't cause harm to yourself only to leave me 'gifts', as you call them. A card would suffice."

He threw his head back in sudden laughter, startling her, "I didn't do that to myself you crazy girl! Why the hell would I slice my own side open? I may be unstable but I'm no looney like that other patient of yours; Zacks or whatever his name is."

"Well, then what happened?"

The Joker sniffed and laid his back onto the couch, closing his eyes, "Apparently our friend the tubby orderly carried a knife in his pocket whilst on the job. I came up behind him and started choking him, he cut me, I snapped his neck" he explained with a shrug.

"And you suddenly thought of me as you bled on the floor of your cell?"

"I wanted to see what you'd do. Tell me, _Doc_, how did it make you feel to know another life had been lost because of you?"

She gave him a look of angered confusion, "What you did to Terry Moore had nothing whatsoever to do with me."

"Oh, but it did", he argued, lifting his head to look back at her, "Ya see, he'd still be alive if he hadn't used you to provoke me that day in the rec yard. So, answer my question. How did it make you feel?"

Dr. Quinzel was at a loss for words as the realization that she had felt close to nothing for the death of Terry Moore hit her. She remembered reflecting on him as useless scum. She remembered feeling relieved when it had turned out that the body in the cell was his and not The Joker's. After that, she hadn't given his memory so much as a well wish for his surviving family. Even now, she felt nothing for his passing. The look in her eyes gave The Joker the answer he needed, and wanted.

"You didn't disappoint, Ms. Quinn" he said, breaking her from her horrifying realization.

She swallowed, "So, you're telling me that you broke out of Arkham in order to prove to me that I'm something like you?"

"I broke out of Arkham because I had no more reason to stay. I could have left whenever I wanted."

She looked at him in wide-eyed surprise.

"Oh yes", he admitted, "I had it all figured out after the first month in this sorry excuse for a high security shoe box."

"Then what made you stay?", she asked impatiently.

A malicious smile spread across his face, "Don't try to play coy with me, Sweetness."

**["Bloodstream" by Stateless]**

Dr. Quinzel pinched the brim of her nose between her thumb and index finger, squeezing her eyes shut. She tossed her blank note pad onto the desk and slid onto the floor where she began to pace with her hands clasped behind her head. Her mind was racing a million miles an hour and the screaming match between The Doctor and The Other Woman inside her head was almost unbearable. She didn't know whether to kiss him or slap him, and part of her wanted to do both. She had stopped sleeping again over the last week. That's how long it took for Dr. Arkham to reinstate The Joker's therapy sessions with her, and with each passing day she felt more and more out of touch with anything that resembled herself. He was all she could think about, and she hated him for it.

"Will you please let me out of this fucking torture device?" she heard him plead in an irritated tone.

She stopped pacing and looked over at him as he struggled in the jacket, deciding that it would do no harm to allow him freedom while he was here with her. She sat next to him and began unlatching his restraints as he grinned at her. His eyes seemed to bore into her, but she couldn't look at him. She knew that, if she did, she would be lost. She hated him for that, too.

"That's my girl", he said as he pulled the loose fabric off his arms and tossed it on the couch next to him. His reference to ownership of her caused The Other Woman to leap for joy and leave a falling sensation in her stomach. She started to stand up but he grabbed her wrist and pulled her back down close to him, "Where you goin'?"

His grip immediately sent her head spinning as she swooned and felt the heat rise in her face. He rested the other hand on her cheek and leaned in to kiss her, but she turned her head away and tried to pull her hand out of his grasp, "I'm nothing like you", she whispered. She didn't know who she was trying to convince, him or herself.

He pulled back on her wrist and her chest bumped into his, "You're _just_ like me, Princess. Just ask Terry" he argued with a sly grin.

She pulled away again and he followed her motion, laying his body weight on her and forcing her back onto the couch. He pushed his lips against hers as she half-heartedly resisted against his chest, but she knew fighting was useless. She wanted him. She desired his touch more than anything she had ever dreamt of in her entire life. She was hopelessly infatuated with everything about him, and for that, she hated him. His touch was like a powerful drug. It caused her lids to become heavy, it relaxed her muscles to near paralyzing them, it sent her world twirling around her, and it made her stomach flutter with a thousand butterflies. For her, this was sheer ecstasy, and still she fought against it every second. The Doctor in her knew this was a sickness, a disease that would consume her if she let it, but The Other Woman caused her to suffer through nauseating withdrawal until she could touch him again. Oh, how she hated him. She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and inhaled him while her eyes rolled in their sockets. He was kissing her deeply and caressing the skin under blouse when there came a knock at the door. Their heads shot up and looked at it before scrambling to compose themselves.

"Just a moment", the doctor tried to say professionally. She retucked her shirt and fixed her hair as her patient tried to make it look as though the straight jacket was still binding him.

Dr. Quinzel opened the door to a sour-looking Simon, "Dr. Arkham asked that I check on you halfway through the session", he explained in a monotone voice.

He had been avoiding the blonde doctor since the night he stormed from her apartment, rejected once more. It was a relief for her, and she no longer felt guilty when she saw him in the hall, but she wished Jerry would reassign the guard to another section of the Asylum so she wouldn't have to see him at all. He stepped into the room at looked at The Joker who returned his glare with a huge cheesy smile. Simon rolled his eyes and turned back to the doctor. There was something strange about his behavior, but other than the obvious irritation he exuded, she couldn't quite put her finger on it. He exited the office and she closed the door behind him. The Joker immediately began removing the jacket as he stood from the couch.

"Shhh", she whispered, "No, look, I think we should be careful ok?"

He took large strides over to her and wrapped her waist in his strong arms, burying his face in her neck. She tossed her head back and shut her eyes as the pleasure of his mere closeness caused her senses to burn with excitement. He drunkenly waltzed her around and back toward the desk, shoving her against it while he nibbled at her neck. It vibrated loudly as it pushed across the wooden floor.

"We have to be _quiet_! Are you listening to me?" she whispered urgently.

He lifted his head and responded between kissing her lips, "Honestly, Baby…I haven't heard…a damn word…because all I can think about…is fucking you on this desk."

She moaned involuntarily, and The Doctor protested loudly as The Other Woman squealed in lustful joy. The Joker picked her up by her hips and placed her on the edge of the desk, standing between her thighs and pushing his pelvis roughly up against hers. Their heavy breathing became the only noise in the room, but she was aware that it was dangerously loud. Just then, there was another knock.

"Gah! Are you kidding me?", The Joker spat as his head snapped toward the door. They reassembled themselves again quickly while he muttered something about "blue balls" under his breath.

She opened the door and was surprised to find Simon leaning casually against the wall across from her office. He wore a smug grin as he asked, "I'm sorry, Doctor, was I interrupting something?"

A lump formed in her throat, "Well, our treatment session isn't over for another-"

"-Half hour, yeah I know. I just thought I heard…struggling. Wanted to check in, make sure eveything's….peachy", his words were threatening and she knew exactly what he meant by them; Simon, the little shit, had been eavesdropping.

She couldn't control the fear from rising to her face as she stared helplessly at him. He pushed himself off the wall slowly and sauntered over to her, "Everything is…ok, isn't it, Doctor?"

She had never seen this side of him before. It was an eerie confidence that made him appear like The Devil himself, although she was fairly certain she had just been making out with him. "Everything's fine. Now, if you don't mind", she shut the door quickly and looked at The Joker who didn't appear to be even slightly disturbed.

"So he knows, big deal", he shrugged.

She hurried over and began relatching his straight jacket regardless of the fact that he didn't appear pleased about it, "It's a huge deal, Mr. J!" she whispered, almost in tears. "If he squeals, I'll lose everything."

The Joker swiveled on the couch to face her, "Ya got me," he winked, but she didn't appear relieved. "You want me to take him out when he comes back?"

"No, no. Just…just let me handle this."

She stood and walked back over to the door. When she opened it, she nearly jumped out of her skin. Simon was still right where she had left him when she shut it in his face, smiling maniacally.

"Is the patient ready for transfer, Doctor?", he asked with a smirk, and she nodded nervously.

He stepped into the room and walked slowly over to her patient, "Must be a relief to have this _Freak_ back in custody where we can keep an eye on him for you, Doctor" he stated as he glared at him. He then looked back at her, "I'd hate to think what might have happened if he ever discovered where you live."

The Joker looked amused, but Dr. Quinzel was terrified. Simon grabbed him under an elbow and lifted him from the couch, ushering out of the room. After several attempts to pull herself out of a panic attack, she took a seat behind her desk and stared at the wall. Minutes later, the elevator sounded at the end of the hallway and she could hear guard boots approaching. Her heart pounded furiously in her ears and she felt dizzy. Simon's figure appeared in her doorway and stood for a moment before walking slowly over to her therapy couch and taking a seat where The Joker had been minutes earlier. He sniffed and stretched his arms over the top of the back cushion, bringing an ankle over his other knee comfortably. She wanted to slice the smug grin right off his face.

"So, what's he got?", he finally asked.

Dr. Quinzel looked confused.

"Huge cock, great kisser, amazing tongue work, what? He clearly must be good at something to make you wanna risk your career and freedom like this. They could throw you in here with him for helping him escape like that or is that the point?"

She shook her head vigorously, "No, no, I never helped him escape. I had absolutely nothing to do with that."

"Really? 'Cause, uh, sure seems like he was leaving you a nice big 'Thank You' note under his bed. How do you plan on proving that you _didn't_ have anything to do with it?"

She began to panic again, knowing he was right.

He shifted in his seat, "I'm not an unreasonable man, Harleen. I would have treated you like the 'Princess' you say you aren't if you would have only given me the chance. Then again, they are starting to call him 'The Clown Prince of Crime', so maybe that makes you a Princess after all."

"What do you want?" she asked hesitantly.

He folded his arms across his chest, "I need therapy, Harleen. I need it bad and clearly you have a gift. I'd settle for free treatment sessions with you from now until, oh I don't know, let's just say until I get bored."

She moved uncomfortably in her seat, "There is no way-"

"-Now I'm not usually a fan of sloppy seconds, but I had you before he had you, and so if I have you again…maybe it cancels itself out. I don't know the point is: he wants to fuck you on the desk, I wanna fuck you on the desk. You won't have to vary your treatment too much, so lucky for you, there won't be too much thinking involved."

"Stop it!" she protested angrily and he laughed in a way she had never heard from him. It made her skin crawl.

"Look, it's really simple; do what I want and you can continue to have your secret little love affair and keep your job. Don't do what I want and I'll tattle, getting you thrown in here with your sweetheart. It's really a win-win for you."

She felt hopelessly trapped, "He'll never share me-"

"-_Share_ you? What are you, his property? Look, he doesn't even have to know, I mean, I won't tell if you won't."

"You'll end up just like Terry."

"Is that a threat, Harleen? The way I see it, you're really in a bad position to be making threats to me."

He stood up from the couch and walked toward her desk, reaching out a hand and trying to stroke her jaw line. She jerked away from him and he laughed again, making her spine chill. "I'll give you until tomorrow morning to think about it. I'd like to start therapy tomorrow night. I'll even be a nice guy and drive to your place so you don't have to be out in the dark. Wear some of that lingerie that I like, eh?"

She was livid and sat clenching her fists as she watched him leave. Angry as she was though, she really saw no other way out. The Other Woman reminded her that she now owned a loaded handgun and a switchblade, but The Doctor scolded her for even considering such a thing.

Harleen and The Other Woman both agreed that The Doctor was becoming a nuisance.


	15. Call Me Harley

**New (Original) Character:**

**Chino Vasquez: Cheech Marin**

* * *

"No", the low octave of The Joker's serious tone made Harleen's spine tingle as she unlatched his straight jacket.

"I don't know what else to do, Mr. J. He's in complete power!", she exclaimed in half panic.

She stood up from the couch as he removed the jacket and began pacing with a hand to her forehead. She hadn't slept at all the night before, and she felt as though she was surely losing her mind, "I have to. I don't want to, you have to know that. I _have_ to do what he says."

The Joker leapt from the couch and grabbed her arm tightly, spinning her to face him before he brought the palm of the other hand swiftly across her cheek. He squeezed her skull between his powerful hands and forced her to look at him with her shocked expression, "NO! You're _mine_, do you hear me? You belong to _me_."

She wasn't sure why she had told him, knowing that he would react this way. She opened her mouth to speak but he interjected, "It's not up for discussion." Something about his possessive force comforted her, even though in the back of her mind she knew it was sick.

He released her head and began pacing as she had been doing, "He's a dead man."

She was still speechless as she watched him. None of it seemed real, but she was glad he was there with her.

"You gotta take care of him, Harley", he said, squaring off with her again. She gave him another shocked look as he continued, "I can't get out of here the same way I did the first time, and a few hours doesn't give me enough time to work it out. _You_ have to kill him."

She staggered back and flopped onto the couch, staring wide-eyed at the floor. He walked over slowly and kneeled in front of her, grabbing her hands in his, "You can do it, Baby. I made sure you have everything you need to protect yourself. You still have all of it, right?"

She nodded without looking at him.

"You know I'm right, Harley."

Harleen finally looked up at him. His eyes penetrated her panic and she suddenly felt at ease, "What's in the bottle?", she asked in a daze.

"Chloroform. You know how to use that gun?"

"Can't use the gun. Too loud", she spoke in broken sentences as if in a trance.

A large smile crept onto The Joker's face, "That's my smart girl", he said as he stroked the cheek he had slapped. She closed her eyes as The Other Woman purred with delight.

He sat next to her on the couch and put his arm around her, pulling her into his chest and she breathed him in deeply. He patted her softly on the head, "Now, Harley Baby, if I find out that you betrayed me and followed through with Lover Boy's plan instead of ours, there will be hell to pay. You understand?"

She put a hand on his chest and looked up at him, shaking her head, "I won't, I promise. I don't know what I was thinking, he's a scumball and he got in my head for a minute."

"He's no different than the rest of the human population. Which is why I have to teach you to protect yourself, My Sweet", he kissed her forehead and her stomach fluttered.

He gently grabbed her by her shoulders and turned her to look him straight in the eyes, "Now then, what's the plan?"

"Kill him."

He took her chin softly between his thumb and index finger, "You're one of a kind, Baby."

She smiled sweetly at him and he kissed her.

Another hour passed quickly by as they sat discussing the different manners in which to dispatch the body once the deed had been done. The Doctor sulked quietly in a dark corner of Harleen's mind as she and The Other Woman listened intently to The Joker and concentrated on the task at hand. A different guard came to retrieve The Joker at the end of the session time. Simon wasn't as dumb as they had assumed. On her way out of the Asylum, Harleen slowed her pace to catch her lover's supporting gaze as she walked by his cell. Once she was in her car, The Doctor felt it safe to come screaming to the surface of her consciousness. She panicked behind the wheel and felt the nausea growing as she admitted to herself that she couldn't go through with it.

There had to be another way.

Money.

She would pay him off. She was nearly always broke as it was these days, but maybe if she paid him everything she possibly could…

That was it; she would offer him cash.

On the way home, she tried practicing the lines she would recite to him that night. Her offer had to be convincing and more enticing than the prospect of nightly sex. As long as she didn't sleep with him, Mr. J shouldn't be upset. Once inside her apartment Harleen changed out of her clinic attire and into a pair of jeans, sneakers, a T-shirt, and a hoodie. She hoped it was the least sexy thing she could wear. She tucked the switchblade into her back pocket, just in case, and waited. Sitting on her couch in the silence, the time seemed to take an eternity to pass. She scratched her nails against the ridges of her jeans and stared at the blank screen of the television, biting her bottom lip nervously. When the knock at the door finally came, she jerked violently and hesitated before getting up to answer it. Simon was leaning casually against the door frame and traced her body with his eyes when she opened it, making her shudder.

**['Cracks' by Freestylers (Flux Pavilion Dubstep Remix)]**

"That's not lingerie", he said with a grin, "Oh well, I doubt it would have stayed on long anyhow."

He stepped past her and began removing things from his pockets and placing them on the kitchen table.

Harleen closed the door, but didn't lock it, "Um, Simon, can we talk first? I have another proposition for you."

He looked at her in amusement, "You got a friend joining us or something?"

_What a creep._

She walked nervously over to the couch and had a seat, "No, uh, I was wondering how you might feel about changing the terms."

He looked interested and walked over to sit next to her, wrapping his arm behind her on the back of the furniture. She inched away, but he followed her, pushing her up against the arm of the couch.

"What if, instead of sex, I paid you in cash for your silence. Every week, or every month, whatever you feel is best."

He looked thoughtful for a second, but it faded quickly, "I'm comfortable financially. I have everything I need in that aspect. What I don't have is a sexy girl showing me a good time every night."

He tried to kiss her, but she pulled away, "Well, there has to be something else, anything."

"Harleen, I wanna fuck you, and I wanna do it whenever and where ever I like. You can't tell me you've forgotten how amazing it was", he said leaning into her again.

She quickly stood up and walked around to the other side of the couch, "Personally, I don't remember it being that great."

He jumped up and faced her, "Oh, I forgot. You prefer freaks."

"He's not a freak, Simon! Stop calling him that!"

"Then what is he?"

He stepped toward her and she backed away, "He's just…misunderstood."

He was getting angry, "You're something else, Harleen, ya know I'm a nice guy, I come from a good family, I offer you the fucking world, and you'd rather screw guys like that _Freak_. You spread your sexy little legs for him completely willingly while you reject me over and over. I should have known it had nothing to do with work. Well, I guess technically it did, huh?"

"Simon, let's just talk this out, ok?", they were playing a slow game of tag around the couch.

"No! It's bullshit! I want you! I've wanted you from the first moment I looked at you, and you picked _him_. He's gotten into your head or something, he's screwed with you, and I'm gonna fix you."

He lunged at her and she staggered backwards, "Don't!"

She tried to run for the unlocked door, but he grabbed her and forced her onto the floor, "Get off me!"

"Come on, Harleen! Don't be stupid!"

She reached back into her pocket and pulled out the switchblade, but he saw it and grabbed her wrist, knocking it from her hand, "You conniving little bitch!"

He grabbed her other wrist and pinned them both to the floor with one hand as he started undoing her jeans. She struggled underneath him, but he was strong, "Danny, please don't!", she yelled without thinking.

Simon stopped and looked up at her, "Who the hell is Danny? You're one messed up broad, you know it?"

He stood up and yanked her up by her wrists, dragging her back toward the bedroom. She tried to sit back down and dig her feet into the carpet as she resisted him with all the strength she could muster. He was turned to the side as he drug her along and she saw an opportunity, bringing her right foot up swiftly into his crotch. He released her instantly and crumpled to the ground, causing her to fall backwards onto the carpet again. She picked herself up quickly onto all fours and tried to scramble for the door, but he grabbed her by an ankle and pulled her back, dragging her stomach on the carpet and burning it.

She could see the switchblade where it had fallen and tried grabbing it, but it was just out of reach. He lay on top of her back so she couldn't move, "So what does he do, huh? What could he possibly do to you to make you so damn crazy for him?"

"He doesn't rape me, for starters!"

"Oh, I'm not gonna rape you, you're gonna give it to me, and you're gonna love it. Just like you do with him", he pulled an arm behind her and put her into a hold an officer would use with a criminal. If she struggled, she knew her arm would break.

He forced her onto her feet and marched her back to the bedroom, pushing her face first onto the bed. He rolled her onto her back and laid on her, trapping her under his weight, and pressing her arms into the bed. He caught sight of the black, white, and red stains on her sheets and pillows and twisted his face in disgust, "He was _here_? I assumed you were just doing him in your office. You were harboring a fugitive criminal, and screwing him?" He laughed, "Oh, that's rich! And just one more thing to the list of marks against you if you speak a damn word about this."

"He'll kill you for this! You'll be sorry!", she screamed in his face as he tried to kiss her.

Tears began forming in her eyes as she realized what was about to happen. She thought of her beloved. She thought of the night he had pinned her to this same bed, and how she had swooned under him, unlike right now. She thought of what he had told her about the scum of the world, and their masks, and how the only way to protect yourself was to…'bite first'. Harleen picked her head up quickly from the bed and imbedded her teeth deep into the exposed flesh on Simon's neck. She felt the tissues tear as the blood spilled into her mouth. He screamed and struggled, finally releasing her arms to grab her head and pull her away. She spat a mouthful of blood into his eyes and he rolled off of her, screaming and cussing.

She leapt up and ran as quickly as she could to the door, flinging it open and descending the stairs four at a time before hitting the ground and sprinting down the street. She could hear him at the door behind her as she ran, "Go ahead and run, Harleen! I'll see you in your cell at Arkham, you little bitch!"

She kept running without looking back. She ran for blocks, people stopping to stare at her and point, but none offering to help. She ran until it felt like her lungs would explode and finally reached the destination she had set out for when she opened her apartment door.

An old run down comic book store built into what clearly use to be a convenience store rested on the end of the block where she was now walking, sucking in gasps of air and clutching her side. She quickly approached the locked door and began banging loudly on the glass, "Chino! Help! Chino, please open the door!"

A small, balding, Hispanic man of his late 50's appeared in the darkened room behind the glass. He hurried to the door and quickly unlocked it, a confused look on his face, "Harls, my god what's happened to you? Come on, get in here!"

He placed a gentle hand on her back and pushed her inside, turning on the lights, and locking the door. He pulled the shades shut on the glass and grabbed a gun from behind the cashier's counter, "What happened to your face? Are you ok? Tell me what happened!"

Harleen tried to speak, but she was still gasping for air.

"Come over here, sit down. I'll get you some water", Chino went through the employee doorway at the back of the store and returned with a towel and a glass of water.

Harleen took a seat on a barstool that sat next to the cashier counter and put her head in her hands, "I was attacked" she explained between deep inhales, "A guy from work."

"A patient?"

She shook her head and tried to swallow, "No, a guard. Tried to rape me."

"Holy shit! We gotta call the cops!"

"No! No, we can't," she was slowly beginning to catch her breath, "He's blackmailing me. If we call, I'll go to prison."

Chino stepped slowly over to her and put a hand on her back, "Did he find out about your parents?"

She sat up and looked at him, shaking her head. He handed her the towel and she attempted to wipe the blood that was now drying to her chin and neck.

"Then what?", he asked.

She took a great gulp of water and laid the cold glass against her head, closing her eyes.

"Harls, you know you can tell me anything."

She lowered the glass and looked into the man's eyes, "I know, Chino. I'm just not so sure you want to know about this one."

The small man walked around the counter and drug out another stool to sit beside hers. He climbed onto it and sat, patiently waiting for her explanation.

Harleen took another drink of water and looked over at him. She couldn't tell him. She couldn't bear to disappoint him. He was the only person she had ever cared for, ever trusted, until The Joker.

"Harls", he pleaded, "I can't help you if you don't tell me."

She sighed and placed her hands on her thighs, "I've…fallen in love, Chino."

He gave her a grin, "Ok, I don't see the crime in that, but go on."

She took a deep breath, "With a patient", she was afraid to look at him, "Is that crazy?"

"We can't control who we love, Chica", she glanced into his eyes, devoid of judgment. He was wonderful. "And they frown on that, yeah? So you could go to jail?"

She nodded.

Chino climbed down from the barstool and grabbed the towel and empty water glass, "Is he a dangerous one?"

"It's…The Joker."

The glass crashed onto the floor and shattered, making her jump.

"That mad man?" he questioned urgently, "Harls, no-"

"He's not a mad man. I've been treating him for six months, now, I know what he is."

Chino began using the bloody rag to scrape together the broken glass, "Harls, I love you, but this-this is bad. Did you help him escape last month?"

"No, but people will think I did, and I can't prove that I didn't."

"Dios mio. So this guy who tried to rape you, he knows about you and The Joker? And he thinks he can use that information to get into your pants?"

She nodded.

"Son-of-a-puta. Is this his blood or yours?"

"His."

He smiled, "Good job, Chica. You always did have some fight in you", he chuckled, "Hey, you remember the morning I found you hiding in here? You were like a wild animal or something."

She grinned.

After disposing of the glass and bloody towel, Chino walked over to Harleen and placed a sympathetic hand on her shoulder, "I knew then and there I would always love you like you were mine, Mija. Whatever you need, I'm here. Even if that means you gotta hide again."

She smiled at him, reaching out and embracing him in a long hug. Chino Vasquez had taken Harleen in during the worse time of her life, and without hesitation. He had kept her darkest secret and saw to it that she became the doctor she had always wanted to be.

After sixteen years of physical, mental, and emotional abuse Harleen Frances Quinzel finally snapped one night in the middle of January. Pouring out the entire contents of a handle of whiskey onto the living room floor of her trailer house as her parents slept in a drunken stupor, she lit a match. Fearing that she would be incarcerated for her momentary lapse in adolescent judgment, Harleen fled into the heart of the nearest city, Gotham.

The corrupt city was unkind and unwelcoming, especially in the dead of winter. She struggled on the streets for three days, freezing, and fighting the ever vigilant onslaught of gang bangers who wanted to rape her and drug lords who wanted to own her. She was always a very pretty girl.

Harleen broke into the loading area of a shabby-looking comic book store and raided the refrigerator in hopes of survival. When Chino discovered her the next morning, huddled close to the floor heater in the back of his store, she nearly sliced his throat open with a piece of rusted metal that she carried for protection.

Finally convincing her that he meant her now harm, Harleen relinquished her weapon. He later contacted the authorities and discovered that her parents had been killed in a tragic fire accident in their home, leaving her with no living relatives. Chino immediately offered to stand in as her foster father. Over the next few years, Harleen grew to trust her caregiver and revealed to him the truth behind her parent's deaths. He never told another soul.

Under his care, she completed high school in Gotham with prospects of becoming a doctor. She wanted to help others as her foster father had helped her. He was her only light in the darkened tomb that was once her life, and even now, he stood by her side.

Harleen's stomach let out a loud grumble and she moaned. She hadn't eaten for at least twenty four hours, maybe longer.

"Hungry?", Chino asked, "Come on, we'll get you some grub." He headed toward the employee room in the back of the store, and she followed.

When she entered the single room in the back, she was surprise to discover that it looked as though he had been living in it.

"Chino, are you staying here?" she asked as he searched the mini-fridge for sustenance.

"Uh, yeah."

"What happened to your apartment?"

"Oh, I had to give it up, ya know, bad economy and all", he was behaving strangely.

"Chino, I gave you three _thousand_ dollars last month. What's been going on?" she enquired as he popped a T.V. dinner in the microwave for her.

"I don't think now is a good time to talk about me and my problems, Harls. You have enough going on right now."

"Chino," she scolded angrily, looking over the bills and eviction notices on the small table in the corner. He was about to lose the store, "What the hell is this? What's been going on? I've been sending you almost double the amount we agreed on, and you're still not making the bills?"

The microwave dinged and he brought the plastic container over to her, but she wasn't hungry anymore.

"I owed a few dollars to a buddy of mine. Should have him paid off soon, then things will be alright again", he replied nervously.

"What buddy? Have you been dealing with a loan shark? Chino, are you gambling again?", she was angry with him.

"I was, but not anymore, I promise. I'm almost done paying him off, too. It's no problem."

"You know those guys are dangerous. Who are you dealing with?"

He pretended to be cleaning.

"Chino!", she demanded impatiently.

"Cobblepot. A guy named Cobblepot", he answered without making eye contact.

Harleen set her frozen dinner down on the table and strided over to him, "_Oswald_ Cobblepot? The guy they call The Penguin?" she was almost yelling at him. She sat on the edge of the tiny cot in the room and put her head in her hands, "Chino! How much do you still owe him?"

"Seventy-five grand", he responded under his breath.

"Oh my god!"

He sighed, "I'm really sorry, Harls. I didn't mean to drag you into this, really I didn't. I've been trying to clean it up before you found out so you wouldn't worry."

She sat up and ran her fingers through her hair, "I know you didn't. Damn, you think _my_ boyfriend's bad? Cobblepot is the most dangerous underground business man in the city. He won't hesitate to make an example of you. I have to hide you."

He laughed half-heartedly at her, "You gonna hide me while you go into hiding?"

She suddenly remembered why she had just ran all the way to his comic store covered in Simon's blood. He had probably already ratted her out. Everything was falling apart. Her whole world was crashing down on top of her.

She stood up from the cot, "I have to go. I need to get some affairs in order. Stay here, and don't open the store for a few days. I'll be back to get you."

"Where you going, Harls? You can't go back to your apartment, they'll know where to find you."

"Just stay here", she started to leave, but turned back and kissed his cheek, "And call me, Harley."


	16. Mad World

Harley left the comic book store and headed back toward her apartment. It was completely dark now and she crossed her arms in her chest, attempting to warm herself in the chill of the night air. She was mindful of her surroundings with each step and scanned the shadowed environment which was lit only every few feet by street lights, some of which flickered and sparked above her. Gotham was bad enough during its waking hours but in the cover of darkness, the nightmares manifested and climbed to the surface, loitering in the streets.

A grungy man sporting a coat that looked like it was once expensive and extravagant dug in the trash can on the corner as she passed, "Can you spare some change, Miss?" he begged. He smelled like wine and urine. Harleen would have pitied him, but Harley was disgusted by his putrid presentation. She scoffed at him and continued walking.

_"Could I bother you for some of your change?" the dingy woman on the street curb asked in shame as Harleen passed her on the sidewalk. She slowed her pace and dug in her pockets. As a student, she wasn't exactly rolling in cash, but she could never resist the temptation to help another fellow human being in need. She pulled a crumpled five dollar bill from her coat pocket and placed it into the bare hands of the woman who look not much older than she. It was particularly cold that evening in January, and Harleen reflected on the time when she too had been a resident of Gotham's unforgiving streets._

_"Bless you, Ma'am", the woman responded, her breath fogging the night air. Harleen turned to continue the trek to her dorm, but her conscience weighted her feet down like lead. She knew she should return to campus before curfew, but on the eve of the anniversary of her own rescue from the streets, she didn't have the heart to leave this woman where she sat._

_Turning back, she slowly walked over to the stranger and had a seat next to her on the cold, grimy street. She observed her shabby worn clothing which barley provided a barrier against the frigid air, and the shoes that one could easily see through to the bluish toes underneath. _

_"Ya know", Harleen began cautiously. You could never tell about the mental state of the homeless population, "I volunteer at a shelter. It's only a few blocks away, I can take you there."_

_"I already tried 'em. They're full for the night. Said I could try in the mornin'", the woman replied without looking at her. _

_The weather forecast reported temperatures below zero for that night, Harleen couldn't leave her here. She knew it was against campus regulations to allow visitors to stay the night in the student dorms, and probably against the law to some extent as it was with picking up hitchhikers, but she just couldn't leave her._

_"What's your name?", she asked._

_The woman looked at her, "May."_

_"I'm Harleen."_

_May grinned at her._

_"It's supposed to get really cold tonight, May. I think you should come home with me. I have some extra clothes I can give you, and some food. Would you trust me?"_

_The grin turned into a smile, and May nodded at her, "Bless you."_

_Sneaking into her small dorm room which was attached to her roommate's by a single bathroom, Harleen quietly closed the door behind them and walked to her closet, "I can give you these clothes and this coat. I also have some shoes I think should fit you."_

_May stood nervously in the middle of the room, shifting her weight between her feet. _

_"You can have a shower, too. I have food in that mini fridge over there, and you can have my bed tonight. I don't mind sleeping on the floor."_

_"I heard there was such a thing as angels", May smiled at her, "but I never met one before you."_

_Harleen's spirit soared the way it always did when she reached out to the less fortunate. It only further reaffirmed her deep desire to become a doctor, and she couldn't wait until the next year when she would begin her first semester at Gotham Medical University where she had been accepted. _

_"I have class at 8:00 am tomorrow, so I'll have to get up pretty early, but you can stay and sleep in if you like. Just make sure you lock the door on your way out, and if my roommate asks about you, just tell her you're my sister", she said, placing an armful of clothes on the bed._

_"Thank you, Harley", May beamed._

_"It's Har-leen, but you can call me Harley if you want."_

_The next morning, Harleen quietly gathered her books and exited the dorm room as May slept soundly in her bed. She would have psychology and biology followed by a break for lunch, during which time she planned to return to her room to check on May, although she expected that she would probably be gone._

_At lunch time she climbed the stairs to her floor in the Women's Hall and turned the corner toward her room. As she approached, she noticed a small group of girls had gathered in the hallway near her front door. A tall redhead noticed her coming and broke from the group to meet her halfway, "Harleen, we've been robbed!"_

_Harleen stopped in her tracks, "What?"_

_"Yeah, I came back for lunch and both our rooms had been ransacked. They took all my cash, and jewelry, and even some of my really expensive shoes. I called campus police, but no one saw anything, so we have no idea who they were or how they got in. Alice thinks it might be someone else who lives in the building", her roommate exclaimed in million-mile-an-hour speech._

_They walked hurriedly to Harleen's room and opened the door. All of her desk drawers had been emptied, and her laptop was missing. She rushed to her bedside table to discover that it too had been sifted through and the first piece of jewelry she had ever owned, a gold necklace given to her by Chino on her 17th birthday, was gone. As her heart sank, Harleen sat down on the edge of her bed and stared at the floor. _

"Hey, baby how you doin'?", a man approached to Harley's left and followed alongside her as she increased her stride on the sidewalk, refusing eye contact. His hoodlum friends stood against a dark building and laughed as he harassed her, "You need someone to come home with you and keep you warm, pretty thing?"

"No."

The man stopped walking and spat at her the way a cat would, clawing the air. He returned to his friends who were guffawing hysterically, slapping their knees and hooting. Harley could feel the heat rise in her face. How dare they treat her with such disrespect! Those bastards would never have behaved that way if they knew who she was, who she belonged to. They would be too busy fleeing for their pathetic lives as her angry boyfriend shot rounds of lead into their backs.

Boyfriend.

Was that what he was? Was that what this had become?

The Doctor attempted to argue, but Harley shoved her back into her dark corner…where she belonged.

She continued to observe her surroundings and the people in them as she walked, each wasted life seeming more useless than the next. This city needed to be purged. Filth was free to roam the streets and crazed maniacs like The Batman were allowed to exact their own personal revenge on whomever they chose while men like The Joker rotted in a padded cell. It was all so skewed, so unfair.

As Harley turned the final block back onto her own street, she cautiously scanned the parking lot in the darkness. Simon's car was gone, but her apartment door still stood widely ajar and the lights shown out from the living room. She climbed the stairs slowly, ready to leap from them and begin running again if he should reappear suddenly.

She stood outside the door and peered inside, listening before stepping forward. Thick droplets of blood stained the carpet from the bedroom to the doorframe. Harley wondered if he had survived, knowing that she had surely severed his internal jugular vein, and perhaps even the carotid artery with her defensive bite.

After assessing that it was safe, she stepped slowly through the frame and peered around the open door. Her television was gone, as was the DVD player that once sat beneath it in the wooden stand. She gradually made her way back to the bedroom where the blood soaked sheets still lay tussled on her bed. She glanced to her right at the dresser where she had left her laptop; gone. She doubted Simon had thought to rob her as he fled her apartment, probably bleeding to death. In fact, it wasn't outside reason to believe that it had been someone who lived in this very complex.

**['Everyday is Exactly the Same' by Nine Inch Nails]**

Harley was suddenly livid.

Had the whole damn world gone completely mad? When did it end? She began inhaling huge gulps of air and her hands begin to tremble. She could feel that she was on the verge of a total nervous breakdown, but if she held it back for one more second, she would explode.

She tangled her fingers into her hair and pulled, screaming with her deepest breath as she yanked hard and bent over, feeling like she would vomit. The sickness quickly passed and she stood back up, pulling out the open drawers of her dresser which had been hastily searched to the floor, still screaming.

She picked up the baseball bat that she kept leaning against the wall as a false sense of security and smashed out the window in her bedroom before picking up the drawers and chunking them violently through it. She ripped the blood and paint stained sheet from her bed and threw them into a large heap in the hallway, stumbling over them to enter her closet.

It too had been picked through, but luckily, they hadn't discovered the small box of objects she had carefully tucked behind the loose panel in the corner. She pulled it out quickly, spilling its contents on the floor of her closet. She then shuffled through what was left of her clothes for something black, pulling out a dark zip up hoodie and yoga pants she had forgotten she owned. She would need something dark to camouflage her pale skin as she crept into Arkham.

The man she loved would make his final escape tonight.

She donned the clothing and retrieved the makeup from the scattered items on the floor, walking to the bathroom and laying it out on the counter. Harley took a long look at the familiar image reflected in the mirror and hated what she saw. She shot out a tight fist and smashed it into the glass, cracking it down the middle. The pain that shot up through her arm was exquisite and she smiled in satisfaction as she watched the blood from her knuckles drip onto the white bathroom rug.

Opening the white container of grease paint she scooped a large amount onto her fingertips and began circling it onto her face, continuing until in hid the skin in thick amounts, leaving only a bare patch around her eyes. She grabbed the black paint and carefully traced the thin flesh on her lids and the circumference around them up to her eyebrows. She grinned at her new reflection in the beautiful mask and picked up the red lipstick, taking one last pause to savor the moment as she spread it across her lips.

The scent of the two chemicals mingling on her new face reminded her of him and her heart beat widely with excitement. After completing her mask, Harley scooped out the remaining contents of the containers and smeared it across the mirror and walls of the bathroom and bedroom, humming as she painted.

She dropped the empty containers onto the floor and returned to the closet, digging an old black backpack from the top shelf. She kneeled onto the floor and began stocking the bag with the remaining gifts that her beloved had left for her, to protect her when he could not be with her. She stood and pulled down a random shirt and shoved it in with the rest of the things, all except the bottle of champagne, which she popped open. Stepping over the heap of sheets in the hallway, she walked to the kitchen and pulled out random drawers until she found the small box of matches.

As she poured the bottle of champagne onto the bed sheets, Harley's mind returned to that evening in January, and the euphoria she had experienced watching the roof collapse into the roaring flames of her trailer home as she glared from the street before the firemen had a chance to arrive. She took a few steps backward toward the door, lit a match, and threw it into the pile where it immediately ignited and began to spread.

She would have loved to stay and watch it burn, but she had work to do. Grabbing her keys from her purse, she quickly descended the stairs and climbed into her car. As she sped away, she watched the glowing light grow in intensity through her rearview mirror and winked at her reflection as her foot pressed harder onto the accelerator.


	17. Mad Love

**['Madness' by Muse] **

* * *

The sound of twigs snapping and leaves crunching was all that filled the dark chilly air as Harley slowly approached the guarded gates of Arkham Asylum. She had parked her car in a ditch about a mile back, hidden underneath the cover of darkness and tree limbs, and began jogging through the thick wood which lined the road to the building ahead. The hood of the black zip-up was pulled over her head and she moved like a shadow through the thick trees.

She had been traveling for about forty-five minutes, and could dimly make out the small guard shack that operated the gates in the distance. Only one guard was usually assigned this late in the evening, he should be easy enough to take down. After another five minutes or so, Harley finally reached the small clearing which surrounded the guard shack and crouched low and quiet and she approached. She made her way around to the open doorway and leaned against the wood just on the other side, holding the torn piece of T-shirt in her hand that she had soaked with chloroform just before exiting the cover of the trees.

Slowly and carefully she peered around the frame of the doorway. The guard was seated in a swivel chair, legs propped onto the monitor table, reading what looked like a dirty magazine. Harley lifted herself from the ground and crept quietly up behind him, pausing for a moment as The Doctor screamed inside of her but was quickly silenced. In one swift motion she brought the rag around his head and allowed it to engulf his entire face, pulling his head back into her abdomen and locking him in so he couldn't escape her grasp. He struggled and made muffled attempts to scream, but soon feel limp in the chair as the drugs took effect.

Harley removed the security keys and I.D. badge from his pocket and grabbed the billy club from his waist, using it to smash out the security monitors. Pulling the level to open the gates, she left the guard shack and remained low and she tried to stay hidden in the shadowed areas of the yard between the gates and the security entrance. Going straight through the front would be risky, even with chloroform, she would have to go through the back employee entrance and creep through the medical wing to get to The Joker's cell. The guards on the other side of the security glass at the front doors didn't even notice Harley's small black figure as she crept around toward the employee lot, but she would have to be mindful of the cameras which rotated, scanning the lot. If she timed them right, she could get inside without being seen on the remaining monitors.

She pressed her back against the brick corner on the front side of the building, peering around to watch the camera as it slowly swiveled toward her. She brought her head back around, out of view, and waited for a few seconds. Her heart stopped as one of the security doors to her left swung slowly open and a guard stepped out, lighting a cigarette. He inhaled the small white stick, causing it to burn brightly at the end, then turned away from her as he exhaled the smoke into the night air. Harley quickly glanced back around the corner; the camera was facing the other direction.

_Now!_

She dashed around the side of the building just as the guard turned around to face her direction, narrowly missing her as she sprinted for the employee entrance. She hastily swiped the I.D. badge and heard the heavy metal door click as it unlocked, pulling it open only slightly to investigate the hallway before slipping in as the camera turned back to face her.

The medical wing made a large square and would empty into the main hall on the East side where the high profile cells were located. She just had to get there without being caught, after that, she was sure he would know what to do. She tip-toed through the white hallways, stopping at each corner before turning down the next stretch. Most of the doors were closed, but she did have to jump past one room which had the door ajar as Trudy treated a sick patient at bedside.

This was too easy, Mr. J was right; this was a sorry excuse for a high-security shoe box.

Harley made it successfully to the East exit and slid the I.D. badge once again, causing the two large doors to swing open automatically. In the main hall she would have to be wary of cameras, guards, and orderlies. She huddled into a dark corner near the elevators and waited, observing the large room; the guards at the entrance were seated at their post, backs to her, watching something on a small television.

She would have to be quick and quiet.

Pulling off the backpack, she unzipped it and pulled out the gun before picking out the key to The Joker's cell on the security guard's chain. She slipped the bag back on and began slinking in front of the cells on the right hand side, heading toward the one at the end. Approaching it, she peered through the glass; he was asleep. She glanced nervously over at the guards before quietly inserting and turning the key into the lock on his glass door. Not wanting to sneak up on him again, she slipped into the cell and stood away from the cot a few feet.

"Knock knock, Puddin'", she whispered with a smile.

He was lying on his side facing away from her, but he heard her voice and lifted his head, turning slowly around to find her. He blinked rapidly and squinted in her direction with a groggy expression.

"Harley?" he asked, laying on his back.

She felt it safe to approach him and quickly jumped over, straddling him on the bed and planting his lips with a quick kiss before sitting back and offering him the gun, "Say 'hello' to your new and improved, Harley Quinn!" she whispered with an accomplished grin.

A huge smile spread across his face and he took the gun, putting a hand behind her head and pulling her in for another deeper kiss.

"Let's blow this joint, Sexy!" he said quietly as he gently pushed her off and stood from the bed.

"I took out the guard at the gate but those two are still out there", she gestured to the front.

"Got a car?"

"It's down the road, parked in a ditch. I got here through the woods; we can go back that way if we make it back out there."

The smile returned to his face and he pulled her into another kiss, "You're the woman of my fuckin' dreams, you know that?"

Her heart soared and the butterflies fluttered violently in her stomach.

He looked at the black object sticking out from her backpack, "S'that you got there?"

She reached back and pulled it out, "Billy club."

"Where'd you get _that_?"

"Guard", she shrugged casually.

He crashed his lips into her again, "Alright, we gotta get outta here before I just end up fucking you."

**['Sail' by AWOLNATION]**

She giggled as he pushed opened the cell door slightly and glanced in the direction where the guards were still seated, holding his gun up close to his face. Stepping through the open door, he grabbed her hand and pulled her out after him and they began to jog quietly toward the North exit. The elevators protruded into the main hall, with two doors on either side leading into the low profile halls and emptying into the rec yard. The Joker picked the one on the left, pressing himself up against the wall next to the door and glancing in while Harley stood next to him and watched their surroundings.

He traded her the gun for the billy club and motioned for her to remain put as he slowly pulled the door open and swung the club down on someone standing on the other side. She heard the body yelp and collapse to the floor where he quickly hit them again. He then drug the body into the main hall and over into the shadow where she had hidden earlier before jamming the club against the orderly's neck and pulling back, cutting off his air. He struggled weakly, already injured by the previous blows to the head, but didn't make a sound.

The Joker's muscular arms contracted as he pulled the man into him, fighting his attempts to wiggle free. Harley watched in horror as the life slipped slowly from the innocent being, and her boyfriend dropped his bleeding head onto the hard floor; it was Jake Miller. She had barely known him, but she suddenly felt an overwhelming rush of remorse and regret.

What the hell was she doing?

The Joker traded her again for the gun and pulled her through the door into the low profile hall, gripping her hand slightly harder than was comfortable, but she knew he was trying to concentrate. As they passed by _Cell# 8290_ Harley paused, pulling back on him.

"What?" he whispered in an annoyed tone.

"Two seconds", she replied as she dug the keys from her zip-up pocket and turned the correct one in the door.

He smacked her in the back of the head, "You gonna save every puppy at the pound? Come on, we're gonna get caught!"

She ignored him as she poked her head into the dark cell, "Hey, Red!"

The figure on the cot stirred, "Who are you?"

Harley stepped into the cell and The Joker threw his hands in the air, releasing a frustrated sigh, "Your guardian fucking angel, let's go!"

Pamela Isley's face was illuminated as she sat up and the light from the hallway bled onto it, "Dr. Quinzel?" she asked hazily as she squinted at Harley.

"Call me Harley. Come on, hurry!"

Isley quickly rose to her feet and grabbed the two potted plants from the floor near the glass before following Harley into the hall. She and The Joker exchanged a glance and Isley looked at her friend in disappointment, "Oh, Harley, Honey, you can't be serious."

"Plant", he greeted her, annoyed.

"Clown", she returned.

"Can we get a damn move on now?" he asked as he grabbed Harley's hand.

The three of them ran down the hallway and reached the door on the other side. There would be another hallway to cross before reaching the heavy metal security doors to the outside, and The Joker was checking for unfortunate wanderers.

"Can I at least ask why?" Isley enquired to Harley as they waited for him to give the 'all clear'.

"We can't help who we love, Chica", she quoted Chino with a smile.

Isley feigned a gag as The Joker pulled his head back in the door and gave Harley a sideways grin. She smiled at him and he grabbed her hand, sneering at her friend as he pulled her through the door behind him. Isley rolled her eyes and followed close behind, carrying her plants. At the metal doors across the hall, Harley swiped the I.D. badge to let them exit without the 'escape' alarms sounding, but she had no idea how her boyfriend planned to escape the securely enclosed yard. They entered the yard and The Joker pulled Harley sharply to the right, walking briskly to the area where a guard normally stood during patient hours.

"You're gonna have to leave those damn plants here if you wanna come with us, Weed", he scoffed to Isley.

She frowned at him and he turned to Harley, handing her the gun before grabbing onto a hole in the wall where a chunk of brick had crumbled away. Then, using his bare feet to grip another hole to his right, he hoisted himself up, continuing the climbing pattern in broken brick and ascending the wall with ease. Harley wondered how he stayed so incredibly fit being locked up for six months, and she suddenly realized how much she wanted him at that moment.

"If I throw these up to you, will you catch them?" she heard Isley ask, breaking her from her trance.

"Sure, Ivy", she answered, "but I don't know if I can climb that."

The Joker had reached the top and disappeared over the edge, returning after a moment with a long black electrical wire, and lowing one end down to them.

"Come on, Baby, I gotcha", he assured her.

Harley placed the gun and billy club in her backpack and hesitantly grabbed onto the wire, not sure if she trusted it to hold her weight, and planted her feet into the same place The Joker had as he helped pull her up the wall. When she reached the top, she grabbed onto the edge of the roof and he knelt down to pull her up, kissing her as she stood to her feet.

Her head twirled.

"Harley!" Ivy whispered loudly from below, "Catch!"

She peered over the edge and carefully caught the potted plants as they were tossed to her one by one. The Joker lowered the cable down the wall, but Ivy had already begun her ascent with amazing speed. He and Harley exchanged impressed glances and she hoisted herself over the edge of the roof and grabbed her plants, barley breathing hard.

She looked slyly at The Joker, "You were saying, Clown?"

He opened his mouth to jest, but was abruptly interrupted by the sound of the 'patient escape' sirens being cranked up to a deafening volume. They must have found the orderly, either that, or the guard at the gates had come to. The Joker quickly grabbed Harley's hand, yanking her to the opposite side of the flat roof where a maintenance ladder clung to the wall of the East Physician's Lot. They inspected the lot and he began descending the ladder, almost sliding down it, and she followed him as fast as she could without falling, her heart pounding in her ears and comforted only by the knowledge that, if they caught them, she would still be with him.

The Joker was pressed against the far corner to the front of the building when she hit the ground, jogging over to him. He put his hand out as he checked the scene, and she removed her bag to dig the gun back out. Growing impatient he finally looked at her and noticed her searching the bag.

Yanking it from her he yelled over the sirens, "Don't put the gun away you daffy girl!"

He pulled it out and shoved the bag into her stomach as he peered back around the corner. She felt like she was being a disappointment and it bothered her, but this was her first prison break, after all. Harley looked back to find her friend who was now descending the ladder a second time, carrying the other plant she had left at the top. She was going to get herself killed over those damn plants!

"I want them found!" a voice yelled from the front, "Search the entire grounds!"

The Joker pursed his lips and cocked the gun as Harley carefully checked the corner; Jeremiah Arkham was walking angrily in their direction, probably toward his car. What was he doing here so late? He was always gone long before she ever went home each evening. She suddenly felt nauseous as a white rage rushed through her, cutting off any source of rational thought and making her reach for the gun. She pulled it from his grip and released two shots in the direction of the doctor, missing him each time.

The Joker snatched the gun back from her hands, "Quit wasting bullets you lousy shot!", and pointed it back at Dr. Arkham who was now cowering on the pavement, unsure where the shots had come from. He pulled the trigger and caught one of the guards who was running to his side in the head, the other he got in the knee, causing him to crash to the ground as he screamed in agony.

"Come on!" The Joker yelled, once again grabbing Harley and pulling her along at full speed.

Dr. Arkham saw them coming and scrambled to get to his feet and retreat the other direction, but The Joker caught his gaping jaw with the heel of his foot, throwing him flat on his back.

"Here, surely you can hit him from this distance", he said to his girlfriend, handing her the gun.

Harley stood over the terrified doctor as he flinched and begged for mercy, pointing the gun in the direction of his skull, but the moment of rage had passed. She no longer felt that she was capable of committing such an act and the gun trembled in her petite hands.

"Do it!", her boyfriend yelled impatiently.

She froze for another moment, looking down into the helpless man's eyes, and slowly lowered the gun. The Joker stomped his bare foot in frustration and yanked the billy club from her bag, slamming it down onto the doctor's head, knocking him unconscious as two more guards swung open the security doors and sprinted toward them. He snatched the gun from her and fired two more shots, catching each of the guards in the stomach and forcing them to their knees.

"Let's get the hell out of here, already!" the Redhead shouted at him as she ran past, headed for the security gates and he took Harley's shaking hand in his and drug her along.

The only thing that held the metal gates shut was a mechanism controlled by a lever in the guard shack, and The Joker was easily able to pry them apart wide enough to wedge his body between them, allowing Ivy and Harley to slip through before he let them slam shut as more guards sprinted toward them from the building. The trio headed into the dark cover of the thick woods to the right of the road and began vaulting over branches and around trees as quickly as their dim vision would allow them. Harley was panting loudly and could hear the slamming of metal as the guards followed them through the gates and into the woods. Although The Joker and Ivy were still in their bare feet, they still managed to tread the ground at a much quicker pace than she, and she was soon several paces behind them as they fled in their bright orange coveralls. The chronic lack of nourishment and sleep had dealt a heavy blow to her underweight frame, and her lungs and muscles were quickly fatiguing even beyond the constant adrenaline rush. She tried to quicken her pace as the sound of stomping boots grew closer in her ears, but her legs felt like lead and she couldn't breathe.

Harley yelped as her feet caught against something in the dark, pulling them out from underneath her and forcing her to crash face first into the damp earth, knocking the air out of her. The guard who had tripped her was immediately on her, grabbing her by the wrists and attempting to cuff them behind her. She lifted her head just in time to see her boyfriend's long arm swing the billy club above her and hear the _thunk _sound as it met with its target. The weight of the guard rolled off of her, releasing her arms and the gun fired again, spraying blood onto the side of her face. The pounding sound of a fist meeting flesh echoed above her and she watched The Joker's feet stagger back a few paces in front of her as she still lay on her stomach trying to catch her breath.

The second guard stepped over her and began struggling with The Joker as they fought for control over the gun. She gasped and jumped to her feet as a knee was brought up swiftly into her boyfriend's stomach, causing him to cough and hunch over. She flung herself onto the guard's back and attempted to drag him to the ground, but he easily swung her light frame around and crashed her into a nearby tree. She released him, gasping for the air that had been knocked from her again and fell to the ground, back resting against the tree. The gun had been dropped on the ground, and as the guard reached down for it, Ivy appeared out of nowhere and brought a potted plant smashing down onto the back of his head. He yelped and landed with is face in the dirt. She jumped down and straddled his back, yanking his head backward by a tuft of hair and kissed his lips forcefully, pushing her tongue deep inside his open mouth.

The Joker had stood back up and was helping Harley up from the ground, giving Ivy a disgusted look, "Jeezus, Plant, I know we've been locked away for a while, but can't you wait a few more hours?"

Ivy forced the guard's head back down into the dirt and stood up, backing away from him with a triumphant smile. As they all watched, the man's body began to convulse violently and his extremities became straight and rigid as he vomited onto the ground.

The Joker pulled Harley back away from the twitching body and wrapped his arms around her, "The hell d'you do to him?"

"Impressed?", Ivy enquired proudly, eyes still locked onto her victim as his body finally relaxed and he released his last breath. She turned to look at The Joker, "Want a smooch, Sugar?", she teased, reaching for the back of his head.

He flinched and hid behind Harley, "Ugh, don't touch me!"

The girls shared a laugh, but were interrupted by the sound of more guards pushing through the gates in the distance. The Joker grabbed the gun and the three of them continued to flee through the trees. The growing sound of police sirens filled the night air and they could see the twinkle of headlights through the trees as the cars sped closer to them, headed in the direction of the Asylum.

Ivy grabbed Harley's hand and pulled her sharply to the right, "This way!"

"But my car is back that way!"

The Joker pulled her other hand in the opposite direction and the two fought over her like a rag doll on a playground.

"Fuck off, Plant!"

"They'll have search dogs, you imbecile! We have to flee further into the woods!"

"And get lost?"

"You won't get lost as long as you're with me, I have a plan, let her go!"

"_You_ let go!"

"Both of you are hurting me!", Harley finally shouted and the two released their grips. She left rubbed her wrist with the other hand, "If they have dogs we'll never make it to my car, I think we should do what Ivy says."

The Joker looked back toward the approaching shadows of the guards as the sirens grew louder, then back at Harley, her eyes pleading with him.

He glanced at Ivy and sneered, "You better have a damn good plan."

She nodded sharply and they took off into the darkness.


	18. Home Sweet Hideout

**New (Original) Character:**

**Joey Asaro: Vin Diesel**

* * *

Harley's lungs were screaming, begging for mercy, and every muscle in her body felt like it had been paralyzed as The Joker drug her along behind him with a vice-like grip on her wrist. They had to stop soon or she was going to be sick.

"Pl-Please!" was all she was able to stammer as she staggered along behind her comrades, but they maintained their vigilant pace.

Harley felt her left knee buckle with her next step and went crashing to the ground, almost bringing her boyfriend down on top of her as she hit the earth on all fours and began to dry heave. The pain in her stomach was unbearable, but she had nothing in it to vomit up. Someone pulled her hair away from her face and held it back while she retched loudly and rounded her spine like a cat attempting to dispel a hairball. A hand began softly rubbing her back, attempting to sooth her, but the sensation just made the nausea worse. Her arms couldn't support her any longer and she lowered herself into the dirt, resting her cheek onto the cool earth and gasping for air between hiccups.

Ivy's face came into view as she kneeled over her, "We can't stop here, Sweetie, not yet."

At this point, Harley wanted to tell them to flee and just leave her there, but she couldn't speak. A large hand gripped her shoulder and rolled her onto her back. The Joker slid an arm under her shoulders and another under her knees, lifting her from the ground. She wrapped her arms tight around his neck as he and Ivy began moving again.

"How much further?" she heard him call to their guide.

"Almost there."

She could hear the echo of dogs barking through the darkness behind them and rubbed her forehead on The Joker's coveralls to wipe away the droplets of paint-mixed sweat that attempted to invade her eyes. The trees were becoming increasingly dense and blocked out what little moonlight there was to see by. As a result, their jog had been decreased to a long-strided and cautious walk. The Joker bumped and scraped Harley's ankles upon tree trunks as they passed, but she was too exhausted to care. She was finally able to breathe at a relatively normal pace, but her head was still swimming as it rested against her boyfriend's tight shoulder.

"I should walk now, you'll hurt your back", she muttered weakly.

He blew air through his lips, "Please. You've lost a good twenty pounds since I met you, and you weren't exactly chunky even then. First thing I'm gonna do is fatten you up a little bit, I like an ass on my women."

She grinned sheepishly at him. The moonlight began to bleed more clearly through the foliage again and looking over her shoulder she could see that the trees were opening up as the light danced on a silver body of water in the distance. Ivy picked her speed up to a jog again and entered the small clearing between the woods and the lake. The Joker increased his speed as well and Harley bounced uncomfortably in his arms. Once in the clearing under the light of the full moon, he set her down gently on her feet as they watched Ivy scan the grassy ground.

"What are you looking for?" she asked her.

"A small piece of – ah! Here it is!"

Ivy knelt down and picked up what looked like a ropy vine and pulled, opening the earth like a door on its hinge to reveal as small hole that had been dug and hidden underneath, packed with four small metallic containers. She grabbed two of them and handed them to The Joker before tucking the others under her arm. They looked like shiny, football sized bullets.

"What's this?" he asked, inspecting the foreign objects.

"I was conducting unauthorized research out here for about six years", she answered.

"On Arkham Island?"

"Well, what better place to hide something from the authorities than right under pompous noses? The research is finished, and the make-shift lab I had set up here has been broken down and removed. This is all that was left, so there won't be anything else laying around for them to discover at this point."

He stiffened and stared angrily at her, "You yanked us through the woods and away from a perfectly good get-away car to pick up your goddamned research?"

"Relax, Clown, it was on the way", she retorted, reaching down again and pulling out a rectangular bag about the size of Harley's backpack.

She rested the metal containers on the grass gently and unzipped the bag, pulling out a piece of folded yellow rubber. As she began to open its creases, Harley suddenly realized that she was holding a self-inflatable life raft, and she glanced at her boyfriend to see his angry expression relax.

"I used to row a boat here from Gotham", Ivy explained, nodding her head in the direction of the dimly twinkling city lights across the water, "You think I'm incompetent enough to neglect keeping a backup in case something went wrong? Some of us actually have a _plan_."

She wore a smug grin as she yanked the black string on one edge of the rubber and it quickly inflated to full size. Setting it down in the grass, she retrieved one of the metal containers and twisted the top, extracting a piece of its contents; a viscous green substance housed in ten different glass vials.

She popped the top off one of the vials and handed it to Harley, "Spread this in the grass."

She obliged as Ivy did the same with another vial, then closed the container and set it in the grass to lift the raft. The sound of dogs barking was growing in the distance and Harley hurried to grab the other end of the raft and guide it down to the water with her friend while The Joker picked up the other two containers with his massive hands and tucked them in his arms.

"The oars are in that hole, grab them", Ivy called back to him.

Ivy held the boat still in the water as Harley boarded, followed by The Joker who set the containers onto the floor and held out a gentlemanly hand to assist the Redhead. She looked surprised for a moment and glanced at her friend then back at him before taking his hand and stepping inside.

"Let me sit up front, Sweetie" she said to Harley, "Joker, you sit in the back and we'll paddle together, hurry!"

The sound of men shouting could now be heard as they followed closely behind their canine companions. Harley lowered herself into the middle of the boat and clung nervously to the yellow rubber on either side of her. They were so close to freedom. Ivy began treading the water with one paddle while The Joker jumped out and pushed them out until he was waist deep. He was sucking in staggered breaths as he waded and finally jumped quickly back inside once they were out far enough.

"Shit that's cold!" he exclaimed, taking the paddle from Harley and pulling it through the water.

"We shouldn't head straight out, they'll see us and easily be able to intercept our arrival as we reach the other side", Ivy suggested.

"Just keep hugging the island until we're hidden by that thicket of trees up there", he answered.

Harley's concern was growing as the barking and shouting became closer, "Won't the dogs be able to follow us around the Island?"

"Those beasts won't be a problem anymore, trust me", Ivy answered.

Harley gasped, "That stuff, it'll _kill_ them?"

"It's us or them, Princess" The Joker remarked.

She knew he was right but the thought still bothered her. The lack of a resisting breeze made it easy for the boat to push swiftly over the glittering water and they were soon hidden by the dense wood around the left bend of the island. Ivy and The Joker tried to pull their oars quietly through the water as the sound of men yelling and dogs whining in pain echoed behind them. Harley covered her ears with her hands and tried to block out the shrieks of the dying animals as they suffered in their final moments. Ivy pointed toward the city and turned around, addressing The Joker with muffled speech. She placed her paddle back into the water and the boat made a slow turn to the right, headed out to the open waters of the lake. Evidently they had deemed it safe to begin the journey back to Gotham. A finger poked at Harley's back and she turned to face her boyfriend, hands still clasped firmly to her ears. He motioned for her to drop them and she pulled them away just enough to hear him speak.

"It's all over now, Doll Face, what's done is done", he said.

The cries had ceased and she guessed that the police were probably searching through the woods again when they hadn't caught them swimming away from the island. From the position they were now retreating, the bank were they had taken off was no longer visible, and Harley sighed as the knot in her stomach began to relax. The danger was far from over, however. Vicki Vale was probably covering the story of their escape at that very moment, and every eye in Gotham would be searching for them. Her stomach tightened again.

"Guess we won't be hangin' out at your place anymore, huh?" she heard her boyfriend ask and she turned her entire body around in her seat to face him.

"Well, no, but not for the reason you're thinking", she suggested with a grin as he raised an eyebrow, "I torched it."

He chuckled, "Why'd you do that?"

She shrugged, "I had a tantrum."

"I have a bit of a predilection for burning things myself. You burn the body in there, too?"

Harley realized she hadn't told her boyfriend about the events of that night and she wondered how he would take the news. She hesitated nervously and began scratching her palm with a fingernail.

"He, uh, he got away", she explained, staring at the floor of the boat where the silver containers rolled lightly back and forth.

"Oh yeah?", his tone was dark and serious, "That's kinda funny, I've never seen a dead man run before."

"Well, he might actually _be_ dead at this point, he was bleeding pretty bad and-"

"-We'll talk about this later", he interrupted sharply and Ivy glanced over her shoulder to look back at them.

"Mind your own business, Plant," he warned.

Harley hadn't lifted her eyes to look up at him, but she could feel him boring holes into her head. The remainder of the journey was quiet as they glided through the dark, approaching a small abandoned harbor that rested underneath a concrete bridge. The lake spilled into a narrow river that ran between the two parts of Gotham City which were connected by the crumbling bridge that had fallen into disrepair after a new one was built another few miles down the road. The harbor underneath hadn't been used in about five years and would be the perfect cover for them to reach land and begin slinking through the city. As they pulled the boat up close to the wooden walkway, The Joker stood and climbed out, kneeling to hold the boat steady. Ivy was unloading the containers onto the splintered wood as Harley stepped out next to her clearly agitated boyfriend. Once the trio was safely on land, he pushed the yellow raft back out toward the middle of the lake and grabbed Harley by the wrist with an uncomfortably tight grip.

"My place is on this side of the city, about five blocks North", he told Ivy.

"Mine is closer, but I don't think it would be much help to us as of my incarceration date", she explained.

"Come stay with us, Red", Harley insisted without thinking.

The Joker yanked her forward and brought her face close to his angry gaze, "That's not exactly your call to make, now is it, Sweetness?", he asked maliciously, wringing her wrist in his powerful grip.

"Ok, stop it", Ivy demanded.

He snapped his head toward her, "I told you to mind your own business!"

She scoffed at him, but didn't retort. He pulled his girlfriend closely behind him as they followed the wooden walk to the concrete staircase, climbing each step with great caution and looking for by standers who might see them. It must have been the wee hours of the early morning by that point, perhaps 2:00 or 3:00 am, which was good for them since there would be hardly anyone awake to notice them running through the city. The staircase brought them up next to a city street located across from a large condemned building which cornered a dark alleyway. The Joker checked each side of the street quickly before dashing across it in his bare feet, dragging Harley behind him. They entered the dark alleyway and were cutting quickly between the buildings when he stopped short, releasing her arm, and began moaning and hopping on one foot. Even through the darkness Harley could see droplets of blood hit the pavement as he held his injured limb in both hands.

"Mother-ah!" he shouted and Ivy shushed him, checking behind them.

Harley knew it was a risk, but she laid her hands gently on his shoulders and coaxed him to lean back onto the brick wall behind him, "Here, Puddin', let me see."

He still looked angry with her but obliged with her request, holding his foot out for her to inspect.

"There's a piece of glass, I need to take it out."

His dark glare softened slightly, "I thought you were a head doctor."

She rolled her eyes, "I attended medical school. It's been a while, but I had all the same training as other medical physicians at one point."

He gave her a sideways grin and slid down the brick to sit on the cold concrete as Harley removed her backpack and pulled out what was left of the white T-shirt, tearing off a long piece. She squatted down and placed The Joker's foot onto her knee.

"Ready?" she asked him.

He cringed in anticipation and she grabbed hold of the marble sized piece of glass imbedded in the ball of his foot, pulling it free of his flesh. He grunted slightly as it began to bleed heavier and she used the shirt to wrap the area and tie it tight.

"That should help with the bleeding and keep it as clean as possible until we can get you some proper wound care products", she stated professionally.

He reached up with his long arm and cupped her cheek, rubbing his thumb softly along her skin, making her stomach fluttered. She saw Ivy shake her head in her peripheral vision and she returned his loving smile as she stood and helped him to his feet. He slid a hand down the back of her arm and entwined his fingers in hers, guiding her with a much gentler grip and limping slightly on his injured foot. When they reached the middle of the alley, another branch broke off to the right and the trio followed it, carrying them further North without being detected. At the end of the passage they paused to investigate the scene.

"Where exactly is your destination?" Ivy enquired.

The Joker gave her a thoughtful glance and hesitated. He exchanged a quick look with Harley and finally muttered, "The old Opera House, and you'd better take it to your grave, Weed."

"I wouldn't betray Harley."

"But you'd betray me quick enough, huh?"

"Just don't give me a good reason."

"Bitch."

"Bastard."

"Yeah, and what of it?"

"Stop it!" Harley snapped, "We just need to get there before we get caught, then you two can fight all you want."

Her boyfriend and her friend sneered at each other before they checked the street again and hurried into the next alleyway across the road. This part of Gotham was usually a ghost town anyway, but they couldn't be too careful when the entire city was looking for them. Harley knew they were only yards from the place of safety and her heart raced in anticipation. As they reached the end of the next stretch of alley the shadow of the old Gotham City Opera House and Banquet Hall came into view. It took up almost an entire block all on its own and was nestled snuggly into a pocket of other rundown buildings that had once attracted wealthy visitor with an appreciation for the arts. This entire street of old Gotham had once been famous for its highly respected art establishments and museums, but after the city went bankrupt toward the end of the 90's, this was the first district to shut down and it never recovered from the blow. The Joker lead Harley quickly down the concrete pavement to the right of the Opera House and back toward the old parking garage behind the building where a shiny black Cadillac was parked on the first floor. She let out a gasp of surprise and pulled back on his hand, pointing to the car.

He smiled at her, "That's my car, Baby."

She looked at him confused as he released her hand and walked around to the back stage entrance and pounded the door with the pad of his fist.

After a few moments a male voice spoke on the other side, muffled through the door, "What'chu want?"

"It's me, Joey, open up", The Joker answered into the door.

The sound of clicking and sliding echoed through it and it opened. Standing on the other side was a tall middle aged man with a shaved head and eyes as dark as The Joker's. He greeted him was a smile and a slight look of surprise.

"Boss, you made it out already. We wasn't expectin' you back for like another month or so", he said.

The Joker reached his hand out toward Harley. She took it and he pulled her gently to his side, "I had some help this time. Joey, Harley Quinn."

Joey bowed politely, "Ms. Quinn."

"And that thing back there is her friend, Queen Weed", he pointed a thumb over his shoulder.

"Her name is Ivy", Harley bravely corrected him but he didn't appear perturbed.

Joey bowed again, "Ms. Ivy. Well, uh, everything's been runnin' as order since you left, Boss", he reported to The Joker as they entered the doorway.

The thug clicked on the heavy flash light he had been holding and lit the stage area behind the curtains before parting them so the trio could walk through.

"There's running water downstairs, but I haven't been able to get us electricity", Harley's boyfriend explained to her.

"Electricity? That's easy, I can get us that", she boasted confidently.

He looked surprised, "Oh yeah? How's that?"

"Just get me a computer, I'll get us anything we need."

He grinned at her and put an arm around her neck, pulling her close beside him as they walked down the stage stairs and up the side isle between an ocean of red velvet folding chairs. The room was massive, and she wished she could see it illuminated in order to appreciate it better. She had dreamt of coming here her whole life, and now that she was here, she could barely see her hand in front of her face. The air was filled with pitch blackness except for the orb of light that Joey projected in front of them. He opened the door at the end of the isle and held it for them. As he shown the light inside, Harley could tell that they were probably entering the foyer which had also doubled as a dance hall in its prime. She couldn't see the details of the pillars that clung to the walls, the vaulted ceilings, or the golden diamond chandeliers, but the marble floors were still beautifully exquisite in their timeless appeal. The door they had just exited was one of two which bordered the marble staircase on either side in the back middle of the foyer, leading up to the once expensive balcony seating of the theater. The red carpeting on the steps was stained, torn in places, and rolling up on itself in the corners, but her heart still beat with the excitement of realizing that this would be her new home.

"The ceiling is stained glass, so it's not so dark in here during the day", The Joker whispered to her.

"It's beautiful", she smiled.

"You wanna see _our_ room? Hey, Joey, lemme have that light, and uh, show The Plant where she can crash."

"Sure thing, Boss", he said and handed over the light before pulling another smaller flashlight out of his back pocket, "This way, Ms. Ivy."

Harley watched the two enter the space to the side of the stairs again, and take a right down the hallway that was tucked in next to the door to the theater. His arm still around her neck, The Joker guided Harley toward the front of the foyer where the tall heavy doors to the front entrance were now chained and boarded up. He pulled her to the right and she could see a doorway in the wall just to the right of one of the gigantic pillars which climbed the wall. The faint writing above the door had been smudged and faded with time, but she could make out the words;

_Cigar Lounge and Martini Bar_

He pulled his arm off of her shoulders and let her walk in first as he held the light in front of her and followed behind. The room was huge and still fully furnished with elegant Victorian seating and a black grand piano situated in the far back corner next to the cherry wood bar which was built against the back wall. A large brick fireplace rested in the wall to their left and two more doors could be seen at the far end labeled;

_Gentlemen_ and _Ladies_

"Now, I've been crashin' on the couch so I'll have to get us a proper bed, but you get your very own bathroom", her boyfriend whispered in her ear as he removed the backpack and closed his strong arms around her.

She smiled and leaned into him. He mostly smelled like sweat, dirt, and blood but still enough like himself to make her swoon. She closed her eyes as he began nibbling the lobe of her ear and worked his way down her neck. She was just about to turn and face him when his large hand slid up and the fingers spread around her neck, squeezing just enough to be uncomfortable. Her eyes shot open as he quickly turned with her and marched her into the wall on the right, pushing her cheek and body roughly up against it and holding her in place with his weight.

He was breathing loudly in her ear, "Now, I think you need to start talkin' about what happened between you and Lover Boy tonight, Darling."

Harley had gotten use to his abrupt mood swings in the Asylum, but this was a different situation. She was in shock and couldn't speak the words she was screaming inside her head and he was growing impatient. He grabbed her shoulder and spun her around to face him, pushing her back against the wall and holding her head tightly between his palms. He dropped the light to the floor where it rolled back and forth, illuminating the room just enough for her to see his dark eyes, and she felt as though she was pinned to the bed in her apartment again.

He was staring angrily into her eyes, "Did you let him fuck you, Harley? Is that why you came and got me? Thought I would be more forgiving if you broke me out before giving me the bad news?"

She tried to shake her head back and forth, but was only able to move a few centimeters within his grasp.

"Then I suggest you start using those pretty lips before I cut 'em off", he warned.

"He-he tried to rape me. I got away. That's it, I swear", she stammered as the blood beat in her ears.

"I thought you said _he_ got away? He shouldn't have had the chance to rape you if you did what we agreed on."

"He knocked me down and I dropped the blade, so I bit him. He was bleeding really bad. I-I ran away."

His face relaxed slightly, "You _bit_ him? Where? On the face?"

"Neck."

His grip loosened, "And you think you bit him hard enough to kill him?"

She tried to nod, "I severed major vessels. There was blood all over the apartment when I went back."

He raised one arm above her and planted his elbow in the wall, "You wouldn't dare lie to me, would you Harley? I don't like liars."

She tried to smile at him, "I broke you out because…because I..."

She wanted desperately to tell him how she felt, but she had never said those words to anyone, not even Chino. It was one thing to say she had fallen in love with him, but to actually tell him, she didn't know if she could. His face finally softened into a grin and he stroked her cheek with the hand that was still on her face.

"What a fucked up pair we make, huh?" he whispered.

Harley let out a deep sigh of relief and felt her muscles relax. He slid his hand behind her head and pulled her into a kiss, wrapping his arms around her waist. She breathed him in and locked her arms around his neck as the kiss deepened, and their breathing increased its rate. He started pulling her back toward the other end of the room while they quickly attacked each other's clothing, tossing articles here and there onto the furniture. They tripped and bumped into coffee tables, couches, and chairs along the way, bruising Harley's shins.

"Where are we going?" she finally asked as the bumps on her legs started throbbing.

He pulled gently back on her hands, "I may not have a big oak desk, but by damn, I've got a piano", he answered with a wink.


	19. Southern Hospitality

"Wakey, wakey, eggs 'bakey."

Harley grinned as the soft male voice broke through her sleep filled trance and brought her thoughts retreating to the surface. The air was chilly around her naked body and she pulled her knees further into her chest as she lay on her side on the cushions of the narrow Victorian style couch. She parted her lids slightly; the room was still dark, but a small bit of light shown in through the doorway into the foyer. The Joker was leaning over her, arm resting into the back of the couch for balance, and while she couldn't see his face, she breathed in his clean scent deeply as her limbs extended and she stretched.

"Sleep alright?" he asked her and she nodded sleepily.

He laid some articles of clothing on her stomach and scratched her scalp with his short nails as she rolled onto her back, "Come on time to get up, Princess."

She slowly lifted herself and turned her body so that her back rested against the furniture, grabbing the cloth that now fell into her lap. They were her clothes from last night and she suddenly realized that they were now the only possession to her name.

"We'll get you some decent clothes and shoes a bit later, but you'll have to wear those for now", her boyfriend said softly as he stroked her shoulder gently with the back of his fingers, "So, get dressed and come eat."

He stood up straight and walked out through the doorway, turning back to lean in through it, hanging his long arms on the frame, "Oh and uh, welcome home, Baby."

He turned and left as Harley grinned and began dressing herself slowly. Once she was clothed she passed through the doorway into the foyer which was now moderately lit though the stained glass windows which lined the high vaulted ceiling. She rubbed her hands against her arms, attempting to warm them as she stared in awe at the magnificent splendor that was her new home. The three large crystal chandeliers that hung from the ceiling were now visible, lined in succession from the front entrance to the large marble staircase straight to the back of the large room. The walls were lined with six massive marble pillars, three on each side, which matched the white and grey pattern of the beautiful floor.

"In here, Sweetness", she heard The Joker call from the room directly across from the Cigar Lounge which was now their bedroom.

Harley approached the doorway and stood in the frame. Inside was a large banquet hall still furnished with round wooden tables sprinkled here and there, and a long oak table which rested in the middle of the room beneath another chandelier. The room was lit only by a couple of battery powered camping lanterns placed on the oak table where her boyfriend was unloading carry out food from a large white paper bag. As she approached, she observed the faded cherub wallpaper which was cracked and folded in some places, as well as the large empty fireplace built into the far back wall. Two metal doors rested close to the back left corner, and she guessed that must be the entrance to the kitchen.

"Get your skinny ass over here", he joked with her, "You're gonna start eating if I gotta cut your throat open and shove it in myself."

It sounded like a threat but he was smiling, and Harley had gotten use to his sick sense of humor.

"Smells good", she admitted as she took a seat at one end of the table.

"Good, I had Joey go and grab us some grub from this Mom and Pop place I like. They serve breakfast all day, so I got us some brunch."

"What time is it?" she yawned.

"'Bout eleven thirty. We need to start turning our sleep schedules around, damn Arkham's got me all screwed up, but we'll get there."

After he had laid out a number of different opened containers of food, he picked up a plate which looked like very fine china and began loading it with eggs, bacon, sausage, waffles, pancakes, and a muffin. He laid it down in front of her and began loading another one.

She giggled, "I can't eat all of this!"

He grinned as he poured food onto his plate, "Do what you can. After you eat I'll show you were you can get a shower, then we'll go shopping."

"Shopping?"

"Yeah", he took a large bite of food, "Oo nee cwoves", he spoke through the corner of his mouth as he chewed.

She giggled again, "Excuse me?"

He swallowed, "You need clothes, do you not? Eat."

She picked up her fork and poked at the eggs, "So, when you say shopping…"

"I got a guy, does all my clothes for me. We'll take you in, get you measured, and he'll make you clothes. In the meantime, I'll send Joey out with your measurements so he can get you some stuff to wear until the clothes are done. Eat your food", he was beginning to sound impatient.

Harley sighed and took a small bite of the eggs at the end of her fork. She hadn't been hungry, but as soon as it touched her tongue, her senses went into overdrive and she was soon shoveling large amounts of food into her mouth and gulping down the milk that was sitting next to her plate. She caught The Joker smiling at her and stopped chewing, slightly embarrassed at her display; like a starving animal.

"See there?" he asked with a smug grin, "No more starving yourself. We'll put a few pounds back on you, then you gotta start training."

"Training?"

He broke apart his biscuit and started spreading jelly from a small plastic container onto it, "Yeah, you're useless at everything", he paused in thought, "Well, not _everything_", he winked.

"I got you out of Arkham", she argued with a smile.

"You got me out of my cell, I got us out of Arkham, and as much as I hate to admit it, The Plant got us off the island."

Harley smiled before biting off a piece of crispy bacon.

"You gotta learn how to shoot, fight, run, drive…and kill", he continued, "There's no room for sympathy in this game, Baby."

They were silent for another moment as they ate, and Harley suddenly remembered her promise to Chino; he was in danger as long as he was in The Penguin's pocket, and she had to hide him. She wasn't sure how her extremely possessive boyfriend would feel about another man in her life, however.

She set her fork down on the edge of her plate and wiped her mouth with the once expensive dining napkin, "Puddin'?"

"Mm?"

"Remember me telling you about my Uncle?"

"Mmhm."

"We'll, as I'm sure you've already deduced, he's actually not my Uncle. We aren't even related."

The Joker looked up at her and stopped chewing, squinting his eyes at her as she continued, "He's my foster father," his gaze relaxed, "and he's in some trouble."

He set his fork down and finished chewing, leaning back in his seat, "Yeah? What kind of trouble?"

"He owes a large sum of money to a man called The Penguin, and I'm afraid he's run out of time."

"Cobblepot? That stumpy shit's harmless", he said casually as he placed his hands on the back of his head and hovered the front legs of his chair over the floor.

"That's not what I've heard."

He sniffed and crossed his arms in his chest, "So, what do you need me to do?"

"I need… I mean… I was wondering if we could hide him", she twisted the napkin in her lap as she studied his face.

He slanted his lids and thought for a long while, rocking back and forth in his chair. Finally he responded in annoyed tone, "Ya know, you've been here less than twenty-four hours now, and already this is the second person you've tried to move in. Is there a trend I'm seeing here, Harley Baby?"

"No, no-"

"-The Plant, your 'Uncle', what's next? The homeless guy down the street?"

"You're right, Ok? I apologize, Mr. J, I realize we have to be careful."

He dropped the feet of his chair to the ground and scrunched his face, "Don't take that 'Dr. Quinzel' tone of voice with me, Harley", he pointed a finger in her face, "That woman's not allowed in here, got it? You keep her quiet."

She was taken aback and only nodded at him. He crossed his arms again, thinking.

"If the issue's money, why don't we just solve the issue?" he asked, "How much does he owe?"

"I don't think that plan will work, Puddin', but it's sweet for you to offer."

"How much?"

She sighed, "Seventy-five grand."

The Joker put his head back and chuckled in his throat, "That's chump change, Cutie Pie", he stood up and grabbed her hand softly, pulling her into him as he wrapped his arms around her, "We'll stop by his shop today and drop it off while we're out; problem solved. Sound like a plan?"

She smiled at him, "You're amazing."

"I know, I know", he smiled and rolled his eye, leaning down to kiss her neck, "Wow! You smell like sex and dirt. Want a shower?"

She grinned at him, "Is that an offer or a request?"

"I don't mind you smelling like dirty sex, but you may wanna wash up before we go see Louis. Come on, I'll show ya where they are."

He grabbed one of the glowing lanterns from the table and handed it to Harley before picking up the other one. They approached the marble staircase in the foyer and The Joker pointed at each of the arched doorways which lay to either side of it. A single door rested within each area and a small hallway split off next to them in either direction; to the right from the right door, to the left from the left one.

"Those two doors lead into the theater, remember, the way we came in? And those hallways lead down into the dressing rooms under the stage."

She followed him, holding her lantern high as they took the hallway on the right. Its carpeted floor curved slowly around to the left as it slanted downward and she could see the door at the end of the hallway marked;

_Dressing Rooms_

He opened the door and entered the perpendicular hallway which crossed in front of it, lined with five other doors on the opposite wall. It was pitch dark, even with their battery powered lights, and the chill was thick in the air.

"The door in the middle is the shower room, the other two on each side of it are dressing rooms that the guys use as quarters", he explained, leading her into the middle room.

A tall pole stood in the middle of the white tile room, surrounded with spouts around the head. The walls on the right and left were lined with sinks and mirrors, but there were no shower curtains for modesty and Harley shuddered at the thought of showering in a dark downstairs area with a bunch of men around.

"There' s no curtain, but you can lock this door", he said turning to her, "and you'd better. No one gets to see this body but me", he said playfully as he cupped her bottom. "Soap should be lying around, and I'll get you a towel. Oh, yeah and uh, The Plant left this morning. Said to tell you 'See you around'" , he said as he exited the room.

Harley shivered in the chilly darkness. It would take a long time to get use to this new life, she decided to herself, and a part of her was already beginning to regret it, but there was no turning back now. She shuffled slowly over to one of the sinks and set the lamp down so that it reflected in the mirror, casting a little bit more light to see by. Gazing at her reflection, she realized that she was still wearing smudged parts of her greasepaint mask and her hair was tangled and disheveled; she looked feral. The Joker returned with a large lavish towel that felt heavy and expensive as he draped it over her shoulders, kissing the back of her head through her wild blonde hair.

"We'll get you some fruity girly bathroom shit later", he said, grinning at her in the mirror and her regret melted a bit.

After a long hot shower Harley dried herself off with the soft green towel that felt nice against her skin and redressed into her dirty garments. She had no makeup, no deodorant, not even a brush. It made her embarrassed to even be seen by her boyfriend who was use to her looking nice in her professional attire. She climbed the red carpeted slope back up into the foyer with her lantern, hair dripping and still a tangled mess. Joey was standing in the middle of the room with The Joker, talking over a map that was spread out in the air between them. He was clad in a black three piece suit, similar in style to his usual purple and green one, and she wondered why he had chosen to stray from his usual image. His face was not painted either, and he wore his hair back in a low ponytail.

"There she is", her boyfriend piped at her.

"Mornin', Miss Quinn", Joey greeted her and she grinned at him.

The Joker reached out a hand as she walked up next to him and scratched it in her hair, "Wanna borrow my brush?" he chuckled, and she was embarrassed. "Why don't you just make a list for Joey here, eh? He'll get you whatever you need, won'tcha Joey?"

"Sure thing, Boss. Want me to go get the car ready?"

"Yeah, we'll be out there in about five."

"Yes, Sir", Joey turned on his heels and clicked on a flashlight as he headed for the doorway next to the stairs.

The Joker looked down at Harley's bare feet and he donned a pair of black leather gloves, "Go and grab your shoes, Sweetness, time to shop."

Outside the Opera House, Joey held the back door to the Cadillac open for Harley as she climbed in, followed by The Joker who put his arm closely around her and pulled the brim of his black fedora down over his eyes, shielding his identity as much as possible. The leather seats of the luxury car were heated, and she could feel the chill thaw in her bones as she snuggled in close to his side. It was a strange feeling to realized that, within just a few short hours, she had gone from psychiatric physician and law abiding citizen to a gang leader's girlfriend. She wondered if the police had discovered that it was she who helped him escape, and what had happened to the rest of her old apartment complex that she had left in flames. The thought forced a sinful grin to spread across her face and she imagined it collapsing down on top of the undesirable inhabitants that were once her neighbors. The Doctor attempted to interject this fiendish thought, but Harley threw a swift kick into her jaw and sent her reeling back into the blackness.

"Your Uncle…uh, Father, whatever, his money's in the back. We'll stop by there on our way back home, m'kay?" he whispered at her, eyes watching the road as Joey drove.

"Thank you, Mr. J."

He grinned down at her and honked her nose between his gloved fingers. She smiled and laid her head onto his shoulder as she stared out the darkly tinted window. The radio was softly playing the tune 'Gambler's Blues' by BB King, and his chest vibrated under her head as he hummed along with the vocals.

Louis Dubuclet was an old Creole man who moved to Gotham from New Orleans after his home and business was destroyed by the Katrina disaster in 2005. He was able to create a modestly successful establishment after his move, and for reasons unknown to Harley, was a loving and loyal friend to The Joker.

"Hey! Bonjou! Bonjou! Come 'een! Come 'een! Konmen to yê, eh?" the small man greeted through the window. They stood on the balcony of the fire escape in the side alley were Joey had parked, and Louis was pulling The Joker inside by an arm.

"Mwen byen, mesi", he answered as the tiny white haired man kissed his scarred cheeks, and Harley looked at him in surprise.

Louis noticed her climbing through the window behind The Joker and elbowed him softly with a sly grin, "Oh, an' wat we got heeya, huh?", his Cajun accent was thick, and she could barely understand him as he took her hand and kissed it, "Bonswa, Kòman ou rele?"

"It's Harley", her boyfriend answered for her as he observed some of the coats hanging in the back wall of the small tailor's shop. He turned to face them with a smile, "Harley, this is Louis Dubuclet."

She smiled sweetly at him, "Pleasure to me you, Sir."

"Oh, dee pleasure all mine, Ma Chere", he answered with a bow and turned back to The Joker, "Now! I godda bone ta' pick wit'chu, Buoy. How come you hadn' come by an' see me fo' so long, eh?"

"You don't watch the news much do ya, Louis?", he answered chuckling.

The small man threw his arms downward in the air, "Gah! Nevamind you, wat'chu need?"

The Joker walked over to Harley and put an arm around her waist, pulling her into his side, "Some clothes for ma meuf, here. I'm trying to put a little weight back on her, so make 'em a little big, eh?"

Louis pulled the long tape measure from his shoulders and approached her, "Wi, wi, she gonna need some room fo' alta'ations anyway."

He finished her measurements and pulled out a small notepad from his suit pocket to scribbled down the details as her boyfriend returned to the coat rack and fingered the materials, "Hey Louis, Konbyen sa konte?"

"Fo' you?" he answered, thinking, "I give it to ya fo' free wid huh stuff."

He made a face of interest in the offer, "How many days do you need to finish?

"Gimme 'till next Vandredi. I have 'er sometin' real nice in mind", the man answered smugly.

"Sounds good", The Joker answered as he walked toward Harley, "Well, we'll get outta your hair, Louis, meci."

"Nice to meet you", she smiled at him.

"Nice ta meet you, too, Chere, bon nui", he said with a gracious smile.

"Bon nui", her boyfriend returned as they climbed back through the window started down the steps of the fire escape.

Joey jumped out of the car parked in the alleyway and opened the door for them. Harley crawled inside the warm vehicle and gave her boyfriend an astonished look as he settled in next to her and handed Joey a copy of the measurements on a piece of paper.

He caught her gaze as he put her arm around her, "What?" He tried to suppress the smirk on his face and look completely innocent, but was unsuccessful.

"What was all that?", she asked.

"All what?"

She threw her hands out in the direction of the stairs, "That!"

He laughed at her, "I was just buying some clothes. I don't see what the big deal is."

"Creole? You speak Creole?"

"I can say a few phrases, why?"

She sat back and smiled at him, "I was your psychiatrist for six months, I saw you five days a week-"

"-And you found out just about as much as anyone else ever has. Now, you know a little bit more."

She shook her head at him as he chuckled and kissed her forehead.

"To the comic store, Joey", he ordered.

"Yes, Sir."


	20. Te Quiero Siempre

"Joey? Do you mind taking the block around 45th street to get to the comic store?" Harley called to the front seat of the Cadillac.

"No problem, Miss Quinn", he responded, turning the wheel slowly.

The Joker glanced down at her, "Leave somethin' at your old apartment?"

She smiled maniacally as she stared out the tinted window, "I want to see how much damage I did."

He gave a boisterous laugh and threw his head back, "Joey! D'you hear that?"

The bald henchman smiled into the rearview mirror, "Sure did, Boss. Sounds like she's finally crossed over, eh?"

She looked up at her boyfriend and watched his boyish smile fade into something more sinister, "Not quite", he whispered.

Harley focused past his face as they drove by the parking lot of her old place, "Damn", she whispered, and The Joker looked out the window. The building still stood, only singed slightly in black around the door and windows of her apartment; she was disappointed.

"Don't worry, Sugar, you'll get your opportunity for mass destruction while you're with me, I guarantee it. He and Joey shared a chuckle as he turned the car into the alleyway that passed behind Chino's comic store. In the distance up ahead, Harley could see a man step out from the open doorway of his loading area and quickly check the street as he took off running in the opposite direction. Her heart started to pound and The Joker sat forward in his seat.

"That's one of Cobblepot's men, I recognize him", he mentioned to Joey, and the thug pulled a gun from his suit coat, resting it in the passenger seat next to him.

"You want me to check it out, Boss?" he asked as he parked.

Her boyfriend started to tell him, "Yeah", but Harley had already flung the car door open on her side and begun running around to the building. He opened his door and pulled the gun free from his suit coat, screaming at her, "Harley! Get your ass back in this car!"

She ignored him, leaping inside and observing the wreckage that was now the back room where Chino had slept. Frantically, she began searching for him; under the bed covers, under the overturned table, in the sell room of the store.

"CHINO!", she screamed in a hysterical voice that didn't sound like her own. She ran to the front of the store and gasped in horror at the long streak of blood that painted the floor, leading to behind the cashier's counter. Following it quickly, she could hear raspy breathing and cringed at what she would find laying behind the wood panel.

She let out a startled scream when a large hand gripped her arm tightly and yanked her back painfully, "You stupid girl! I told you to get back to the car, you wanna get killed? You _never_ run into an unknown area like that!" her boyfriend scolded her, holding the gun in his other hand. She struggled in his grip and pulled herself free, but he grabbed her again.

"Get off me!" she yelled without thinking, but the swift sting of his palm on her cheek brought her back to her senses and she cupped it with her hand as she stared angrily up at him.

"Calm down", he warned, "Panicking is another good way to get yourself killed."

The rasping echoed again from behind the counter and the two of them turned to look before cautiously walking over toward it, The Joker extending a long arm to hold his girlfriend back as he approached with the gun. As they peered around the edge of the wood, Chino's blood covered face came into view, his body crumpled in a heap on the floor, clutching his neck with both hands as blood streamed through his fingers. Harley pushed past her boyfriend's arm, and he let her pass as he stood, lowering the gun.

"Oh my god!" She kneeled down next to him and put a hand behind his bloody head, "No no no no, Chino, no. Hold on, I can, I'm going to…Puddin', we have to call an ambulance!" she screamed as she placed her hands on top of his, trying to apply an added pressure to stop the bleeding.

"Can't do that, Precious", he said softly.

"We have to! He's bleeding too fast, I can't, there's nothing I can do!"

"They'll take us in", his tone was sympathetic.

"I don't care! Please!" she stood from the floor and reached toward the store phone with blood soaked hands.

The Joker grabbed her wrists, "They'll separate us, Harley! I'll go to Arkham and they'll send you to Blackgate's women's compound 'cause you're not crazy!"

A cascade of hot tears was streaming down her face as she tried to lash out at him, hating him.

"Nnggoo", the gargled voice below her sputtered.

She looked down to see Chino staring up at her, desperately attempting to communicate. She quickly kneeled back down next to him and he lifted one of his hands away from his neck, causing the blood to drip down faster. She reached down and clasped her palms against the cut again while the tears blurred her vision.

He placed the bloody hand to her cheek and stammered between gulps of gargled air, "No…cops….you…run."

"I won't let you die", Harley cried as her body shook, and she lifted his back to cradle his head in her arms, still applying pressure.

The Joker came around the side of the counter and stood over them. Chino looked up at him and stuck out his hand, beckoning him to come closer. He kneeled down reluctantly, and the dying man grabbed him by the hand, wrapping his bloody fingers tightly around his thumb.

"You…you…love her…like I do", it wasn't a question or a request; it was a command, "You…do it...promise me."

The two men stared into each other's eyes and Harley watched as an unspoken understanding was passed between them. Chino then reached up and placed his hand softly onto the back of Harley's neck, looking into her eyes as his breath began to slow and his lids became heavy.

"Te quiero, Mija…Siempre", he whispered.

**['My Love' by Sia]**

His focus blurred and his hand slid down her shoulder. His breathing ceased and he stared past her as his muscles went limp and his mouth drooped slightly. Harley let out a heart wrenching wail and pulled his face into her, rocking his lifeless body in her arms. The Joker removed his fedora and sat onto the blood soaked floor next to her in his expensive suit. He tried to reach out and touch her, but she jerked away from him and threw her head back, releasing another painful scream.

He leaned over toward her and gently took her arms, "Let him go, Baby, he's gone", but she clung tighter to him, squeezing his head into her chest.

Her body shook violently as she sobbed like a young child; crying without sound before finally taking in a gasp of air and releasing it in a high pitched wail. The Joker stood up and leaned over her, pulling her up and away from the body. She struggled and turned to face him, tearing into him, pounding his chest with the pads of her fist.

"You…stupid…selfish…it's your fault…_your_ fault!"

He let her do it, taking the blows and waiting for her to extinguish the heated blame that needed to be purged from her pores. She knew it wasn't his fault, but someone had to pay, someone had to hurt as much as she was at that moment. After a while, her pounds lost their intensity and her legs became weak. She crashed her face into his chest and sobbed loudly as he wrapped his arms around her and laid his chin on her head.

"Anythin' I can do, Boss?" she heard Joey ask from the back doorway where he had been standing this entire time.

"Get the car ready, we're going home", he answered.

Harley's cries were quiet now, but the tears still streamed heavily down her face and she felt The Joker lean down and tuck an arm behind her knees, lifting her from the ground. He carried her to the car and set her down in the backseat, shutting the door and walking around to the other side where she heard him tell Joey to call the cops from a payphone and hurry back. She stared blankly at the back of the passenger seat as he opened the door and slid in beside her, reaching an arm around carefully. She allowed him to pull her close to him, burying her face into him again while the white hot agony gripped her chest. The door to the driver's seat slammed shut and the car began moving again.

"They're on their way, Boss", Joey said quietly.

The ride home was silent, not even any music played on the radio while Harley stared out the window as if in a trance, head resting on The Joker's chest. He was the only person left in her life now. The only other person she had ever cared for, and who had ever cared for her. "Love her like I do", Chino had said. She wondered if he was even capable of such a thing, if he even loved her at all, whether this whole thing had been a terrible mistake, a mad man's sick game. A part of her wished she had died on that floor next to her foster father, no; her Father, her Padre, _te quiero siempre_.

Joey pulled the black Cadillac into its spot on the first floor of the parking garage where two more vehicles were now also sitting. He got out and opened the door on The Joker's side and he grabbed her hand gently and pulled her out of the seat behind him, following him sluggishly back inside the dark building. She hated it at that moment; dark and quiet, like a tomb. Joey lead them by flashlight back into the foyer where Harley released her boyfriend's hand and walked slowly back to the cigar lounge, flopping down into a large armchair in the chilly darkness.

"Here, go get us some dinner from that Italian place", she heard him tell the henchman before the sound of his expensive dress shoes made their way toward the doorway. His dark silhouette peered into the room and walked slowly over toward her, brushing his fingertips lightly over her arm before taking a seat on the couch across from her. He slouched into the furniture and crossed his arm in his stomach, but she couldn't make out the features of his face even though the fedora was removed. She wanted to climb into a hot bath, but realized that wasn't possible, and she hated the place even more. There were so many things she would never be able to do again, then a thought suddenly hit her; she wouldn't be able to attend Chino's funeral. She was his only family, and he hers. Except for a couple of high school kids that ran the counter on weekends, no one would be at his funeral, he would be laid to rest completely alone. The tears pushed their way from her eyes again as she stared across the dark room at the only person left in her life. She couldn't decided whether she loved him or loathed him; he had done this to her, and while part of her regretted it intensely, another part couldn't imagine life without him. He was imbedded in her very core now, and there was no going back. She wondered again if he felt the same way, if he could feel at all. Then she remembered the unspoken promise she had watched him make to Chino, she had seen it; it was there in his eyes, and he was a man of his word.

"You're not crazy", she heard the words escape her lips, but she hadn't spoken them; someone else had.

"Aren't I, Doc?" he asked her.

"No."

He paused for a moment, then spoke slowly, "I have found both freedom and safety in my madness; the freedom of loneliness and the safety from being understood, for those who understand us enslave something in us."

She sniffed, "Kahlil Gibran."

He nodded.

"Great wits are to madness near allied, and thin partitions do their bounds divide", she retorted quietly.

"Alexander Pope", he indicated and stood up from the couch, striding slowly over to her and kneeling at her feet, taking her hands in his. She could barely make out the shape of his dark eyes.

"Am I crazy?" she heard the voice ask through her mouth.

His scars lifted as he smiled at her, "There is always some madness in love, but there is also always some reason in madness."

She returned his smile as a few tears escaped her eyes, "Friedrich Nietzsche", she whispered.

He stood and pulled her up into him, she rested her cheek against his strong chest and breathed him in.

"Did I ever tell you", he hesitated for a long time, "that I had a wife?"


	21. Three's a Crowd

'**Dirty Laundry' by Bitter:Sweet**

**You can take a look at my Deviant Art page for a drawing of Harley's suit. The link can be followed from my profile.**

* * *

Harley's delicate fingertips tapped the keyboard of her shiny, new, purple laptop vigorously as she chewed on her bottom lip and squinted at the screen. She was seated in the passenger seat of the Cadillac, parked outside a busy Starbucks, Joey sipping hot coffee in the seat next to her. They would have their own internet soon enough, but for now, she would have to use other sources.

"Ok, tell him to give it a try", she told the henchman.

He picked up the small black walkie-talkie and pressed the button with his thumb, "Alright, Boss."

After a short pause The Joker beeped in on the other end, "IT'S ALIIIIIIIIIIIIIVE!" he shouted, laughing maniacally.

Joey and Harley exchanged a smile and a high five, "Man, it'll be nice to have some lights and heat in that place", she said, closing her laptop, lifting her vanilla latte to her lips, and grabbing the walkie-talkie, "On our way back, Puddin', you want us to get you some coffee?"

"Yeah, get me one of those peppermint ones", he beeped.

"I don't think they're in season yet."

"Tell 'em it's for me, they'll _make_ it in season", he joked and his girlfriend rolled her eyes.

"Let's just get him a hot chocolate or something", she mention to Joey as he put the car in gear.

It had been a month since Chino's death, and although she realized it was only a short period of time, Harley was beginning to think that this cut was one that would not heal with time; some wounds were just too deep. She had been able to find plenty of joy in her new life, however, and had to admit that she got an unexpected rush out of breaking the pathetic moral barriers of society. She climbed into the tinted back seat as Joey pulled into the long line for overpriced drive-thru coffee, and fiddled with the buttons on her suit vest as she stared out the window at the setting sun; signaling the start of a new day for them. Louis had made her an entire wardrobe based on the inspiration from her full name, Harley Quinn, which The Joker had told him one night over dinner at The Opera House,

"Like dee clown, wi? You got'cha self a little clown princess, eh, Buoy? She a good lookin' one, too. Say, dat give me an idea I tink da two o'you gonna like", he had said with a smile.

The suits were two toned, in respect to the harlequin clown, in the colors black and red. The slacks were a soft black fabric down one leg, red down the other, and opposed the colors on her suit vest which she wore over a white blouse with short ruffled sleeves for femininity. He had made her a couple of suit coats as well, but she only wore them when she felt chilly since she felt that they restricted her ability to move in full range at the shoulders. Louis had embroidered a trio of diamonds on the left hip of the pants and the top right of the vest, explaining that they indicated royalty; she was a princess after all. Harley was beginning to enjoy her new identity as well as the way in which her new boyfriend doted on her every wish. She had only asked for a single computer to use for hacking purposes, but had awoken in their comfortable cherry wood bed one evening to the sound of Joey and the other two boys, Sean and Cal, unloading box upon box of electronic appliances into the foyer. Since then, Harley had spent the last two weeks setting up a security system for them around The Opera House, and the final touch was finally getting some electricity up and running. She hacked into the mainframe grid of the Gotham Electric's computer database and had the power restored to their building, covering the footprints so that no one would know the difference. Someone would have to actually go out and check the meter to see that it was receiving power, and who would do that? They're humble hideout was now complete with electricity, which meant heat and air condition, running water, and a working kitchen. Some of the appliances would probably need to be replaced, but they could get to that later.

The Joker was waiting outside the back of the building as Joey pulled the car around into the parking garage, clad in one of his purple and green suits. He walked over and pulled open the door for Harley, "M'lady", he took her hand as she exited the car and put an arm around her shoulders, tugging one of her two low braided pigtails which she now wore her hair in, "How's my little genius?"

She offered him the hot cup in her hand, "We got you hot chocolate."

"Thanks, Precious Pie", he chirped, "What'd you get?"

"Vanilla Latte."

He lifted a semi-serious eyebrow, "Better be whole milk."

She rolled her eyes, "Yes, it is."

The depression from the death of her Father had sent Harley spirally back into an unhealthy pattern of sleepless nights and skipping meals. The Joker had given her a week to wallow in her sorrow before demanding that she start sleeping, eating, and trying to put on some weight again. It had been a heated topic that eventually lead to them losing their tempers with one another. They sat bickering over her small plate of food at the large oak table one evening; he insisting that she eat, and she insisting that she wasn't hungry. She got up to leave and he had finally had enough, chasing after her and grabbing her arm to spin her around and face him as he pinched her cheeks between his long fingers, "How about I break your damn jaw, then you can suck your meals through a straw for the next month!" he had yelled. She brought her small fist into his stomach, and he staggered backward for a second before responding with the back of his hand across her right cheek. He had apologized later that night, and she agreed to eat a small amount before they retired to bed. Since then there hadn't been any other fights, and she had managed to put on three pounds in the last three weeks, which she considered a good amount in a short period of time. Her boyfriend, however, was adamant that she put on at least what she had lost in the last seven months; which may have been about twenty pounds. She grew increasingly irritated with his demands, but knew they were for her own good, whether she liked it or not.

The Joker opened the back stage door for her and she could see the lights of the theater bleeding in through the red curtain. She was excited to finally see what the inside looked like without the cover of darkness, and walked quickly to pull the curtain aside. A gasp escaped her lips as the beautiful golden room was revealed; the tall acoustic ceiling was an expertly carved wood that flourished over the entire rounded surface, and stood in timeless splendor behind the three golden crystal chandeliers that hung from it. Everything was perfect now, and with each passing day she regretted her decision for this life less and less.

Her boyfriend wrapped his arms around her waist as he came up behind her, "Good job, Baby. You really got this place up and runnin'."

"You would have figured it out", she smirked humbly.

He chuckled, "Chemistry, explosives, that I can do but all that hacking shit, forget it."

"Does that mean I'm hired?"

"Have you put in your two weeks notice with Dr. Arkham?" he joked.

"I'm pretty sure he got the point from the two bullets I fired at him."

"Two wasted bullets."

"Hey, I'm getting better! I've been working really hard", she pouted playfully.

"I know you have, I know, and you have gotten better; you actually hit the paper now."

She giggled and gently shoved her elbow into him as he kissed her neck. Yes, this new life was paradise, and the happiest she could ever remember being. This was where she belonged.

Her boyfriend released her waist and smacked her on the bottom as he passed by her, headed for the stairs, "And if all goes well, you'll get some knife practice later tonight, too."

She watched his back as he descended the stairs and started up the aisle to toward the foyer, "What do you mean, Puddin'?"

He opened the door and looked back at her with a wink, "It's a surprise."

A few hours later, Harley sat comfortably on her tall queen sized bed which was now situated against the wall, across from the old fireplace in the Cigar Lounge. They had decided against lighting actual fires in it since the smoke would attract unwanted attention, but a very realistic looking fiber optic log twinkled from inside and made the room feel relaxed and cozy. She had the green flannel sheets pulled up snuggly around her knees as she leaned back onto the cherry wood headboard and read through a stack of medical books that Joey had picked up for her. She wanted to review the emergency medicine information she had once learned in medical school in the inevitable case that someone may need a bullet removed, and cut stitched, or a broken leg reset. They had packed an entire area of the kitchen full with necessary medical equipment and first aid supplies, per her request, and one of the dressing rooms downstairs was set up as a designated 'hospital bed'. It was nice to finally be able to read by the light from the lamp that rested on her bedside table instead of by flashlight as she had been doing for weeks, and she hummed as she read, lifting her head to a clicking sound to her left. The Joker turned the knob to the door they had installed for privacy at the entrance to the Cigar Lounge and stepped inside, fresh makeup on his face, and walked over to his bedside table where his purple leather gloves rested. He picked them up and winked at her as he began pulling them over his fingers.

"Are you going out on a job?" she asked in a half-whine.

"Gotta see a man about a dog", he replied.

She closed her book, "But Puddin' you promised!"

He chuckled in his throat, "Maybe you can come on the next one, Princess, this one's for Big Boys only."

He walked around to her side of the bed and softly pinched one of her cheeks before exiting the room and closing the door behind him. Harley crossed her arms and pursed her lips, pouting as she watched the fake log change color. The Joker had still refused to allow her to accompany him on his 'jobs' even though she begged him to let her help. He insisted that she still required more training and would only either get in the way or get killed, and while his concern flattered her, it still made her feel useless sitting around The Opera House while he went out night after night. She glanced to her right at the far side of the room where the bar and piano still stood. The bar had now been turned into a make-shift chemical laboratory, and a messy desk rested in front of it covered in her boyfriend's chicken scratch equations. Her desk, which was twice as large, sat in front of the grand piano and faced the wall. Three computer monitors, a keyboard, and a mouse were all that rested on its clean surface. She wished he would give her a new assignment to work on so she could finally use them and feel that she was contributing in some way, but for now, all she could do was study her books. She huffed and picked up another one from the pile and began reading, wondering when he would be home.

**['Black Black Heart' by David Usher (slow version)]**

Harley parted her eyelids slowly. She had fallen asleep reading a book on infectious wounds, and had been awoken by the faint sounds of a woman's voice singing opera. She shook her head and tried to lift the sleepy haze, sure that she was hearing things that weren't there, but the vocals continued. Laying her book aside, she pulled the covers back and slid slowly off the bed, walking cautiously to the door and listening before turning the knob. The sound echoed slightly louder in the large foyer, and was bouncing in from the theater. Her heart pounded as she returned to her bedside table and opened the door to retrieve her gun. Holding it tightly at the ready in her hands, she walked through the foyer and slowly pulled open the door to the right aisle of the theater, peering inside as the music leaked out and filled the room. The theater was fully lit, and Harley was finally able to release the breath she had been holding when she noticed the back of her boyfriend's suited body standing in front of something in the middle of the stage.

She lowered the gun and swung the door open, stomping down the aisle, "You nearly gave me a damn heart attack", she scolded at him over the music that was blaring from a boom box at the edge of the stage.

Joey and Sean appeared from behind the curtain and gave her a respectful nod as she climbed the stairs onto the stage and turned the music down to a more tolerable volume. Her boyfriend still hadn't turned to look at her, and was fumbling over someone seated in a chair in front of him. She hurried over thinking perhaps it was Cal and he had been injured, but just as she approached, The Joker spun to face her spreading his arms in the air, "Tada!" he exclaimed, and stepped aside to reveal a bloody and frightened looking Simon, arms bound to the chair.

Harley stopped in her tracks and stared at him with wide eyes. The Joker gave her a satisfied grin and twirled around to stand behind his gift, smushing his cheeks between his hands and rocking his head side to side, "Surprise!"

"Get your hands off me you fucking Freak!" Simon yelled.

The butt of Harley's gun went flying into his nose before she had a chance to realize that she had even moved. Simon screamed in pain as the blood began pouring from it, and The Joke leapt back with a loud cackle and taunted him as he danced in place. After a moment, he stopped and grabbed a handful of Simon's hair, yanking his head aside to reveal the fresh scar that had been left on his neck.

"That's one good lookin' piece of work, Princess", he mentioned to Harley as she stood in a daze from her recent uncontrollable action.

She caught Simon's frighten stare, pleading at her, and her heart sank into her stomach. Her boyfriend released his head by throwing it forcefully forward, and he slowly lifted it to meet back with her eyes.

"Harleen…please", he begged, "I never told anyone about you and him, I swear. I was never going to, I was just…so…_jealous_."

She shifted nervously in her spot as she stood, unable to speak.

"I love you, Harleen", he continued, and The Joker laughed, "I do! I love you, and I always have. I just wanted you to love me back so bad, and when I found out you had feelings for…for _him_…I just couldn't take it. I went crazy or something, I'm so sorry, Harleen."

"No, you're not sorry yet, but you will be", The Joker insisted in a sinister tone as he flicked open a switch blade, "Here, Baby, make me proud", he handed the knife to Harley who just stared at it in her small hand, still holding the gun in the other.

"Harleen, please. Please don't do this", Simon continued to plead, staring wide eyed at the knife.

Harley stood with feet frozen in place as her boyfriend came up behind her and wrapped a large hand over hers, moving her like a puppet toward Simon's frightened face, "You can do it, Harley", he whispered on her neck and she shuddered as goosebumps spread over her flesh.

Her hand began to shake beneath his, "I…I…can't"

"Yes, you can."

"No…it's wrong…it's murder."

"_You_ shut the fuck up!"

"Can't! Can't!"

"Give me the goddamn knife, I'll do it. Harleen, Honey, close your eyes, don't look."

"Can't do it! Can't!"

"I told you to shut up!"

"Oh my god…", Simon's voice caught her attention and she looked up at him to find that his frightened gaze had turned into a mouth agape look of sheer terror. Tears fell from her eyes as she began to hyperventilate, and The Joker let his arms slowly slip away from her. She felt nauseous and hunched over as the realization suddenly hit her at full force; the argument that had just occurred…

…had been spoken entirely through her own mouth.

**['The End is Beginning is the End' by Smashing Pumpkins (slow version from Watchmen)]**

She had suspected this for a long time, but it was a nightmare she would never fully allow herself to realize or internalize until now. She spun around to meet with The Joker's emotionless gaze, "How-How long? How long?", she sobbed.

He gave her a small grin, "As long as I've known you."

But Harleen already knew it stemmed from much further back than that. She had had unexplainable gaps in her memory since the night of her parents' deaths. The roof of the trailer house crumbled into the flicking flames as she watched from the street, but she couldn't remember lighting the fire, even though she somehow knew that it had been done by her; she just _knew_. Flashes of repressed memory would flood back to her when triggered by something, but she couldn't recall them voluntarily no matter how hard she tried. She reviewed patient charts night after endless night because she could never clearly remember what it was she had done with them earlier that very day; usually attributing it to lack of sleep. Sometimes a line or a word would click something in her, and she would remember a conversation or a testimony. She had always called the two voices in her head the two sides of her human conscience, the same ones that every person shared, but her educated brain had always known it was something else, though she would never admit it.

Dr. Quinzel was the moral compass who guided their ever vigilant efforts to restore sanity and discover an infallible cure for the sickness that was suffocating and destroying the world. She was the antithesis to the cruel and cold hearted beast who protected them; set the fires, bit the rapists, pulled the triggers. The Joker had been the one to finally give her a name and, until now, she had never had a reason to surface for longer than minutes at a time. Harleen was the innocent and naive young woman who, through all of her exhaustive efforts to be a good person, now relied on both of them for survival; and this realization brought the sickness up in her throat as she struggled to breathe, clinging to the arm of her boyfriend's coat.

"What did you do to her?" she heard Simon scream at him, "I knew it! I knew you screwed with her head, you Son-of-a-Bitch! You sick Freak!"

Harley snapped her head toward him and her sobbing ceased. Simon's eyes grew again in fear as she quickly approached him, knife and gun in hand, and straddled his lap in the chair, grabbing his face between her small fingers, "What the fuck did I tell you about calling him that?" she screamed in his face.

Simon blinked quickly at her and she felt The Joker's arms wrap around her, pulling her off of him, "Hey, hey, you only sit on _me_ like that, got it?" he insisted.

"How does it feel, Clown?" Simon smirked, "How does it feel to know that I was inside her first?"

The Joker pushed Harley aside as he brought an angry foot under the guard's chin, sending him flying backward in his chair and landing loudly on the wooden floor of the stage. He leaped over him and began throwing punches into his jaw with both fists. Harley composed herself from her stumble and hurried to pull her boyfriend away, not exactly knowing why; he deserved every hit he received for a comment like that. She managed to bring The Joker back away from him, breathing heavily and sweat mingling in the colors on his face as he spat down at the bloody body, writhing in pain.

He reached into his coat and pulled out his gun, but Harley wrapped her hands around his, "Puddin' wait, I have my gun."

He looked at her, and the fury in his face subsided slightly. She turned to retrieve it from the place it had slid to when she was knocked to the floor, cocking it as her boyfriend's face lit up with delight. She smiled at him and faced the bleeding Simon, aiming the gun between her hands as she had practiced for the last two weeks. Her finger wrapped around the trigger but her confidence suddenly faded as Dr. Quinzel screamed inside of her, causing her arms to shake.

The Joker stood closely behind her and she could feel his breath on her neck as he whispered to her, "It could be just us, Harley, just you and me. If you let it happen, let it go."

Her eyes rolled in their sockets as his scent filled her senses, and her finger tightened on the trigger again, almost pulling it as the unbearable screaming began again. Simon was looking at her now, staring at her with pleading eyes, begging for mercy as Dr. Arkham's had done. The Joker pressed his body closer against hers and placed his hands firmly on the front of her hips, making her swoon.

"Harley", he whispered into her ear, his lips touching her skin and sending tingles down her spine, "I love you."

The sound of the gun firing echoed through the acoustic room and the screaming was abruptly silenced, leaving behind only the sound of a woman's soprano vibrato dancing through the air.

One Year Later

The Joker sat across a round table from three men, one of which Harley recognized as her Father's killer, and it took every ounce of self control in her to remain standing in her place as her boyfriend had insisted she do. After they had all the information they needed she would be allowed to have her fun, until then, she had to stand next to him, shifting in place as the handle of her sledge hammer rested over one shoulder.

"What'chu got against Cobblepot anyhow, Clown? You ain't a gamblin' man, he don't owe you money or nothin', why the sudden interest?" the blonde thug in the middle asked.

The Joker clicked his teeth together, "What's it to you, Sparky?"

"I wanna make sure that this little spat o'yours don't somehow come back on me, that's what."

"I have a personal motive", he answered shortly.

The two other men were eyeing Harley's muscular body, and she shot them hatful glares through the black diamonds painted over each of her eyes. They lifted their eyebrows and smirked at her, clearly undisturbed by her unspoken threats. She reminded herself that they weren't the focus tonight, however, she had to keep an eye on her target; the blonde in the middle. He was leaning back in his chair, thinking about the financial offer than had been placed on the table in exchange for information about The Penguin's personal address and security set up. After a while he finally reached into his coat pocket, and Harley gripped the handled of her hammer tighter. He pulled out a while envelope and slid it over to The Joker who opened it and handed the contents to Harley. She scanned the document of information and smiled, handing it back to her boyfriend who stuck in inside his coat pocket.

The thug on the left gestured toward Harley, "So, what is she, like your bodyguard or somethin'?"

His friend laughed, "I'd let her guard my body."

The Joker's wrists flicked in front of him, and two shiny metallic objects shot from them, twirling swiftly through the air before imbedding themselves into each of the men's necks, sending blood spewing in all directions as they gargled and fell backward in their chairs. The blonde man stood quickly and tried to remove his gun from his coat, but Harley leapt forward with a roundhouse kick to the back of his head which forced his forehead to slam down onto the table before he collapsed to the floor next to his comrades. He glanced at the one to his right in fear, observing the razor sharp playing card that stuck out from his neck as he took his last breath. He looked up to see The Joker stepping up to him, and tried again to remove his gun, but he brought his expensive dress shoe down onto his hand, pinning it to his chest as his middle finger broke into. Harley appeared on his other side, dragging the sledge hammer screeching across the concrete floor. The two hovered over him and he stared up at them helplessly as The Joker reached across and grabbed Harley gently by the chin.

"Gentlemen, have ya met Harley?" he asked sarcastically.

She smiled sadistically down at her victim and whispered something in Spanish before swinging the handle of her weapon back and over her head. The last thing the man saw was her smiling face as the large metal end of the hammer grew larger in his vision; then there was blackness.

* * *

**[End Credits: 'Don't Fear the Reaper' by Blue Oyster Cult]**

**This has been a ton of fun to write, and I hope you enjoyed it as much as I have! Thank you so much for reading, and be sure to stay tuned for the sequel, 'Mad Empire', coming soon!**

**-J**


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